Classified Secrets
by Cherylann Rivers
Summary: When Vanessa Bender answers a mysterious Classified Ad in the paper she inadvertently sets into motion a huge chain of events; and Joe is left to decide between his past with Iola and his future with Vanessa.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Well, welcome to the new story! This story follows "Make a Wish," in which Iola is found to be alive. You might like to read that one first, but if you don't, you'll be fine as long as you know that this story involves both Iola and Vanessa. Again, I have written in the Casefiles format; that is, Frank is 18 and Joe is 17, and I have kept the character nuances in the books pretty much the same. However, through this series of stories, their relationships all grow. This story reflects my developing style and is more in tune with my later stories. I hope you all enjoy! As always, any reviews are appreciated!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 1

"Not too bad!" eighteen- year -old Frank Hardy muttered to himself as he looked down at his wristwatch. It was early, only 7:30 on Saturday morning, but he had already completed his daily run in almost record time. Stretching out on the front porch of the home he shared with his parents and his seventeen year old brother, Joe, Frank took a few moments to absorb the beautiful day around him and to take in the clear, fresh air that filtered down from nearby Barmet Bay.

These days, he was learning to take things a little easier, and to appreciate all that life had to offer. Although he was only a senior in high school, Frank, along with his brother,Joe, had seen more than their fair share of the nastier sides to life, and had borne witness to just how easily life could be taken away. Sometimes, Frank thought, it would be a lot easier to be a normal, carefree high school kid without the part-time detective job that both he and his brother held.

As Frank continued to cool down, he couldn't help but to smile at that thought. He knew he was kidding himself. As appealing as the thought would be to spend long days playing Nintendo and baseball, he knew that both he and Joe thrived on their investigative pursuits, and to do anything else was contrary to their natures. However, Frank realized that all too often, their cases required them to jeopardize the safety of their friends and loved ones, and that was the one area with which he was uncomfortable. In fact, in their latest case, he had almost lost his girlfriend, Callie Shaw, and Joe … well, Joe was still dealing with issues involving his own love life from that case. Taking one last, deep breath of the cool air, Frank opened the kitchen door and decided to have breakfast before taking a shower.

Three hours later, after breakfast and a shower, Frank returned to the kitchen in hopes of making himself a good cup of coffee before his day could really begin. Grabbing the newspaper off the kitchen counter, Frank began to read as he backed up and sat down on what he thought was the chair.

"Hey!!" Joe shouted, as Frank jumped. "Watch where you're going!"

With a start, Frank turned around and looked at his brother. "You know, Joe, it's a good thing that I didn't have coffee in my hands right now or you'd be saying a lot more than that! Did you just get up?"

"Yeah, bro. I decided to make it an early morning." With a yawn, Joe stretched his arms and leaned back in the chair.

Frank just stared at his brother. Joe's blonde hair was mussed from a long night's sleep, and his tee shirt and boxers were crumpled and an overall mess.

"THIS is early? Joe- it's almost 11:00!" Frank said in exasperation. "I've been up for almost five hours already. I ran. I took a shower. I had breakfast, and watched the morning news. I called Callie. I even put out the trash, made an appointment for both of us to get our tuxes later for the prom, and I'm almost done making a pot of coffee."

"Good for you." Joe quipped, and smiled at his brother to let him know he was joking. "This IS early for me, and you know that. Want to know my morning? I went to bed at 1:00 and beat that stupid Sonic the Hedgehog video game, at last. I slept. I rolled over. I went to the bathroom. I went back to bed. I thought about getting up, and decided against it. I rolled over again. I went to sleep. Then, I decided I was hungry and I came down here. Now, here I am. And you know what?"

Frank was afraid to ask, but he did. "What?"

"I'm still in better shape, I'm more well rested, and I'm so darn pretty, even at this hour. So- who was more productive?" Joe asked and let out a small chuckle.

Frank was about to argue, but laughed as well. "You know what, Joe? Good for YOU, buddy. Want some coffee?"

"Sure. Want to make me eggs and pancakes, too?"

"Don't push your luck."

Joe yawned again. "So, anything interesting in the paper?"

"Give me some time to look at it and I'll tell you. You could read it yourself, you know," Frank answered in response.

"Yeah," Joe quipped. "But why should I when you can do such a good job without me?"

Frank rolled his eyes. "I hadn't thought of that."

"See? I've always been the brains of the operation; that's what they say," Joe replied with a wink.

Frank chuckled. It was good to see Joe smile again. The past month had been a rough one for all of them. Their last case had taken on an ominous tone when the boys had come face-to face with their old enemies, a group known only as the _Assassins_. During the course of that case, Frank and Joe had discovered that Joe's former girlfriend, Iola Morton, whom they had once thought to be killed, was, in fact, very much alive. Although safe at home now, Joe was in the difficult predicament of trying to salvage that relationship, along with a new one he had forged with Vanessa Bender.

Very delicately, Frank decided to mention that issue. "So, have you… um… decided whom you're taking to the prom yet?"

Joe met Frank's eyes, and tried to make light of his situation. "Frank, I'm telling you. I'm done with women," he managed.

"Uh, okay," Frank answered taken aback.

Seeing the startled look on his brother's face, Joe had to laugh before speaking. "Well, life would be a lot easier, wouldn't it?"

Suddenly, Joe's voice took on a more somber tone. He exhaled slowly. "Honestly, Frank, this is just a … bad time for me. I really want to see Vanessa. She's great, and she has been through this whole thing. I feel weird calling her, though, you know? We made plans to go together before all of this… stuff...happened. So, I guess it'll be her, but we haven't spoken. I really need to see Iola, and to talk to her because, I mean, I've been given a second chance here, and so few people get that. To get back what we once had-- that would be so incredible. I'm really gonna try. Of course, her parents are slightly freaked out about me seeing her. I guess I understand why." Joe's voice had lowered considerably.

Frank immediately felt bad about bringing up the topic. Despite Joe's offhanded comments and casual manner, Frank could see the pain still in his brother's eyes. He decided to change the subject.

"So, have you seen these stories in the paper about what's going on in high schools? It's pretty scary."

Joe perked up. Anything new to get his mind off the subject at hand was good news to him. "No. I told you. You're the reader. You tell me. What's up?"

Frank furrowed his brows and Joe laughed, mocking, "Don't look so serious all the time."

Frank responded, "Joe, it IS serious. Look." He pointed to a picture of a high school in Los Angeles, California. In the picture, a high school was seen, and in front of it were three body bags. The headline read, "_Mystery Illness strikes Third High School in Three Weeks_."

Joe was now interested. "What's the story?"

"Well, it seems as though this is pretty big. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it, really. It started three weeks ago, in Texas. A lot of kids went to a school in Stockton, I think, and came home ill. No one really thought anything much of it. Then, a few days later, one of the kids who had complained died. Then, three others did. It was a huge panic. It turns out that it was some rare form of Meningitis. The school was shut down and quarantined for a week."

Joe let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's terrible. I thought there were vaccines for that. You don't hear much about that disease any more."

Frank continued. "That's the thing. It seems as though since the disease wasn't seen for so long, that a lot of doctors stopped vaccinating for it, since it was considered obsolete. Then, the same thing happened the next week in North Dakota. Four more kids died there. Now, it looks like it's happened again, in California. People are staring to get really worried, and it's being referred to know as the High School Horrors. No one is really sure what to do about it. The only thing they know is that at each of these schools, once the school has been quarantined, there's been an anonymous piece of mail sent. They can't trace it. All it has is apparently a cutout of a shoe. Detectives seem to think that's a way of saying that there is a definite "movement" of these cases, and that they're obviously all connected. Terrible, huh?"

Joe had to agree. "Yeah, it sure is. Sounds like a mystery to me!"

"What sounds like a mystery?" At that moment, the boy's father, Fenton Hardy, walked into the kitchen. A former New York City Police Detective, Fenton Hardy was now an internationally known private detective. Any mention of a mystery was usually sure to spark his interest, but lately, he had seemed preoccupied with a huge case that was taking a lot of his time, and seemed to be frustrating him to no end.

"Hey Dad," Frank said.

"Morning," Joe echoed..

Fenton Hardy walked to the counter, got a cup of coffee, and then sat at the table with his sons.

"Well, hello boys. I see you're up and ready to face the day." At that, he took a closer look at Joe. "Never mind. I take that back. Unless, of course, underwear is the latest in teen trends. You know, underwear as the new outerwear."

Joe groaned. His father could be so un-cool at times. Joe watched Frank laugh at his father's silly comment and couldn't help but to picture Frank in 25 years looking just like his father. He had to stop that before it happened!

"So, what mystery?" Fenton questioned again.

Joe answered. "You know, Dad. Those High Schools that have been hit with Meningitis."

Fenton frowned. "Yes. I've heard of that. Pretty interesting, eh? Clearly, whoever is doing that is leaving a trail for some reason. It's rather perplexing. I'd actually look into that, if I wasn't so busy myself right now."

Frank used this opportunity to try to get more info from his father on his case that he had been so tight-lipped about. "Yeah. I see you have been busy. Anything new on your case? Any developments?"

Fenton shook his head. He looked tired. "Boys, I can't give you specifics, other than to tell you that there has been some pretty serious terrorist activities going on overseas. You've heard of some of them. There have been several bombings in London, France, Switzerland, and other countries in Europe. Actually, there have been eight in all. Each one seems to be worse than the last. You've heard the President on television addressing some of these concerns. A lot of lives have been lost, senselessly. It's terrible. The only thing we know is that they're connected, somehow. It's funny, really. Just like those High School cases, this group, whomever they are, leaves behind a "token" if you will, of their responsibility. I guess it's the latest in terrorism. Identify yourselves." Fenton sighed. "Anyway, INTERPOL, the CIA, and, of course, the top investigators and police agencies in the world are on top of this. We have no answers. It's been four months of terrible leads that go nowhere. That's why I've been away so much, and will continue to be as long as this is an issue."

"What "token" did they leave?" Frank asked.

Joe exhaled, loudly. Frank had to learn when to leave things alone. Frank shot him a dirty look.

Fenton smiled. "Son, that is classified information. Believe me, when we get answers, and we will get answers, life will be a whole lot less complicated." Joe was surprised at the look of determination in his father's eyes. This case really seemed to be affecting him. Joe had to admit he had heard about these recent international terror attacks, too, and the case seemed interesting. However, as terrible as Joe knew it was, he couldn't get as interested in goings on abroad as he could with homeland issues. The High School cases seemed more interesting to him.

Joe interjected, "Hey, dad. Do you think that maybe you could put in a few phone calls and see if you could get Frank and I in on that case in California? It seems interesting. Maybe we could help."

Before Fenton could respond, however, Frank interrupted. "No way, Joe! Look, I know we both love a good mystery. I, personally, could use a break. First, we just came back from what was probably one of the most important cases in our lives, and I think we both need to focus on taking care of PERSONAL issues. Second, I'm a month away from graduation. I just want to relax, finish out the baseball season, decide on colleges, and spend as much time with my friends and Callie as possible. The only mystery I want right now is to find out what color vest I should get for my tux. Speaking of which, we have one hour to get to the Mall, so I suggest we get headed out."

Joe sighed. Frank was right. Maybe he was taking on too much right now. He knew deep down that the larger reason for him wanting to take on a new case was probably to avoid his own mystery; Vanessa or Iola; whom to choose?

"All right, Frank. I still think it's interesting, though." With that, he was stepping out the kitchen door, ready to go to the mall.

"Um, Joe?"

"What? I thought you were ready to go."

"I just wasn't sure you wanted all of Bayport to ponder the greatest mystery of all- boxers or briefs?"

Joe turned beet red as he noticed he was still in his underwear.

"Ah, I'll be down in a few minutes."

Joe could still hear Frank and Fenton laughing as he ran up the stairs to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much to Missme113, Polaris'05, Helen, Josie, twoisall, Red, and Ananya for your kind reviews. I hope that you enjoy the rest of the story! I want to make a quick note to you all (thank you Red) just to let you know that this story was written before terrorism became a huge event in the U.S. (on or about 9/11)-- so Joe isn't intentionally taking his father's international terrorism case lightly... he's just more interested in cases that involve people his own age. Anyway... :) Enjoy..._

Classified Secrets

Chapter 2

"I don't know if I can do this any more," Vanessa Bender said to her good friend, Callie Shaw. They were sitting on the floor of Vanessa's bedroom, looking through the latest magazine in search of the perfect prom dress.

"Well, you still have a week to decide. I mean I'm sure you can find something. Look at all the choices!" Callie responded.

"That's not what I mean, Callie," Vanessa sighed dejectedly.

Callie smiled gently at her friend, and reached out to squeeze her hand. "I know," she replied sincerely.

Callie felt terrible for Vanessa. In the six months or so they had known one another, she and Vanessa had been through a lot together.

Callie had thought that this prom was going to be yet another event that they could go through as friends. She and Frank were saying goodbye to high school, attending their second and final prom together, and celebrating almost four years of dating. Since junior and senior proms were always combined at Bayport High, Callie had been looking forward to it for quite some time. And, until their most recent case with Frank and Joe, everything had been going perfectly. However, now that Iola was back, Vanessa was considerably less than enthusiastic about even going to the prom. Callie tried to hold back her resentment towards Joe for putting Vanessa in this terrible predicament. Deep down, though, she knew it wasn't Joe's fault, and that he was hurting, too. With a sigh, Callie turned to Vanessa. "Talk to me."

"What can I say?" Vanessa asked in exasperation.

"Well, you could say a lot. Are you and Joe together now? Do you talk? I mean, have you dealt with your… issues?" Callie asked, trying to elicit a response in some way.

Vanessa felt herself grow angry. "Ask Iola, Callie. I'm sure she'll be able to enlighten you."

The hurt reflected in Callie's eyes. "I'm only trying to help. I can't help it if I speak with Iola. She was my friend, too," Callie answered defensively.

Vanessa knew that, but she needed someone to lash out at. It didn't seem like she could talk to anyone, other than her mother, and she wasn't personally involved. "Well, Callie, why don't you choose, huh?" Vanessa spat out. "I mean, everyone seems to want to do that lately. Black or white. One or the other. Pick one, lose one. Let's face it. You were friends with Iola a lot longer than me. You risked your life to try and save her. I, on the other hand, am the new girl-- Joe's pick of the last few months. It's not the same as you and Frank. He _loves _you. You don't have to worry about Frank saying, "Honey, will it be you or Jill? Maybe Denise? Nancy?" Vanessa couldn't control herself.

Callie stood up, shocked. She soon found her voice, though, and met Vanessa's eye. "You know what, Van? Frank is not the issue here. Neither, really, is Joe, or Iola, for that matter. I'm not even going to make this about me, either, as easy as that would be. This is about you, and the choices you have to make."

Vanessa was quiet. Callie was right, as much as she hated to admit it. Letting out a deep breath, Vanessa looked at her friend. Callie didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry, Callie. Really. What should I do?" she asked, fighting back tears. Normally, Vanessa was not overly emotional, but this situation was beginning to take its toll on her.

Much to Vanessa's relief, Callie smiled. "Okay. Now we're talking! Have you tried to talk to Joe?"

"No. It's been awkward," Vanessa admitted.

"I'd say. However, you probably should," Callie encouraged her.

Vanessa had to ask the question she was dreading. "Callie. I want you to be completely honest with me here. You've known Iola a long time. You've also known Joe. Who…" Vanessa's voice faltered. "Who do you think he would pick?"

Callie bit her lower lip. "Oh, Vanessa. That's not for me to say. Joe, numbskull that he is sometimes, does love you. I know that. Anyone who saw the two of you together knew that. Yet Iola—she was his first true love. But I have a more important question for you."

"What's that?" Vanessa asked warily.

"Do you want to wait around to see if he makes a decision? Do you really want to give Joe—or anyone, really-- that much control? What does that say about you?" Callie asked.

Vanessa winced. Those were harsh words. They hurt, though, because underneath all logic and reason, there was a ring of truth to them. Resolving herself to be strong, she decided maybe she would follow Callie's advice. "Okay, then, Callie. Help me to meet the man of my dreams, if Joe Hardy isn't it. Any ideas?" Vanessa hated to say those words, but she decided that anything had to be better than sitting around and waiting for Joe.

Callie hesitated. At last, she spoke. "Let's go downstairs."

Puzzled, Vanessa got up and followed Callie. When they were in the living room, Callie questioned, "Have you got a newspaper? There's a really wacky idea I have, but…. You never know!"

Vanessa looked at Callie in amazement. "Yeah, sure. Hold on a sec."

A few minutes later, Vanessa returned with a copy of the _Bayport Times. _"Okay, I give up. Tell me why you're being so secretive."

Callie blushed. "I know this sounds crazy, but have you ever thought of answering an ad for a personal?"

Vanessa laughed in astonishment. "Um, NO. That's crazy! Only desperate people meet that way. Give me a break!" Vanessa kept giggling.

Callie, however, remained serious. "Listen. That's not true. I'm going to let you in on a little scoop, okay?"

"Shoot," Vanessa said with a laugh. This had to be good.

"Vanessa, seriously. You know my friend, Liz Webling, right?" Callie went on.

Vanessa nodded. "Sure. Her dad owns the _Times. _She works there. Go ahead."

"Okay, well, check this out." Callie was becoming animated, and now Vanessa was hooked, if only to see the source of Callie's enthusiasm. "She told me that here's this guy who's supposedly running ads in every paper in the country. EVERY one. Do you know how many papers that is?"

"He sounds rich!"

"All the better!" Callie laughed. "Anyway, no info is given on him, but he looks like a real catch. Every few days, he places a new ad, but you know it's his. I'll show you in a minute how. Anyway, the assumption is that he keeps meeting new women, but he's still in search of his ultimate princess. When he finds her, they'll live happily ever after. Doesn't that sound romantic? It's been going on for about four or five months now. So—well, I thought you might like to apply."

Vanessa started laughing harder than she could remember. "Callie! You're out of your mind!"

Callie fought back annoyance. "Won't you at least look?"

Wiping tears from her eyes, Vanessa managed, "Sure! Bring on mystery man."

Flipping to the Classifieds section, Callie found the Personals. Vanessa was surprised to see that Callie had an ad circled in red. She couldn't help herself from saying, "Hmmmm… should I tell Frank he has cause to be concerned?"

"Just read it," Callie said, blushing again.

Vanessa looked at the ad.

"_SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming still seeking his Princess._

_Today, you must have the following qualities:_

_507 ways of smiling_

_9 times of 12 you'll say you love me_

_Love Lucky Charms_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella?" _

"Doesn't he sound romantic?" Callie asked again. "Every week, he has new 'qualities' he's looking for. However, he always ends it with that cryptic 'believe in chambers of the heart.' What do you think?"

"I think he sounds weird," Vanessa admitted.

"Oh, Vanessa!" Callie sighed in exasperation.

"Come on, Callie! If you're so enthralled by him, why don't you write to him?" Vanessa asked.

"No—you should. Listen, Vanessa." Callie actually sounded normal again. "I don't expect you to get chosen. Liz told me she got the inside scoop, and this guy chooses people from all over the country. At least you'll feel like you're taking control—well, sort of—of your own destiny. The most important thing is that while you make up your mind about Joe, you'll be distracted for a little while."

Vanessa was dubious, but it did sound like fun, in an odd sort of way.

"Oh, all right. Don't tell Joe, okay? Or anyone else!" Vanessa warned, finally giving in.

Callie laughed. "Come on! When do I tell Joe anything? But… you have to let me tell Frank. I think he'll think it's good for you, just to get your mind off things."

"I don't know," Vanessa said with hesitation.

"Hey, you may very well wind up with Joe, not that I quite understand why you'd want to…"

Vanessa shot Callie a look.

"BUT, in the meantime, let's have some harmless fun. Frank won't say anything."

With a sigh, Vanessa acquiesced. Shaking her head, a smile crept to her lips. "Callie, what will you do if I DO get chosen?"

Callie laughed, too. "Then you better invite me to the ball!"

With that, the girls began writing the letter.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to sleuth girl, writing out loud, missy, Polaris, Josie, Missme113, Red, and Rini for your reviews. I'm glad that you like it! Special thanks to Red for your "shout out" on "Trust"—which everyone should check out if you want to see a master writer and story! Sleuth girl, this story was posted years and years ago, so you're right—it's just revisiting again and enjoying it! :)_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 3

"You did WHAT?" Frank Hardy asked his girlfriend the next day, as they were sitting on the couch in her living room, watching television. He couldn't believe what Callie had just told him, and he had to ask her again to make sure that he'd heard her correctly.

"I told her to answer a Personals ad. Come on, Frank. Have a sense of humor here! It's not like she'll get picked or anything, but you have to admit it's a good way for her to keep her mind off Joe," Callie responded adamantly.

Frank shook his head in disbelief, saying, "Callie, that's crazy! That sort of idea is wild, irresponsible, impulsive and something I'd only expect from…. well, Joe, I guess!"

Callie began to get annoyed, and pulled herself away from Frank, with whom, until just a minute ago, she had been very nicely cuddling. Turning around, she met Frank's eyes with a steady glance and tried to control her temper. "First of all, do NOT compare me to your brother. Despite your tendency to insist that we have the same personality, you continue to be wrong. Second, I'm looking out for Vanessa here. While your brother takes his sweet old time deciding which girl he wants to be with, some of us--namely, Iola and Vanessa-- are just sitting around. Personally, I wouldn't let someone make the choice for me."

Frank, exasperated, said, "No, I'm sure you wouldn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Callie shot back.

"Nothing. Look, do we have to talk about Joe right now?" Frank asked, trying to change the subject.

"You brought it up," Callie mumbled.

"No, actually, YOU did," Frank retorted.

"Must you always have the last word?" Callie challenged.

"ME?!" Frank asked, shocked. "I don't think I've ever gotten the last word."

"See? There you go!" Callie responded defiantly.

Frank flopped on the ground and laid out his arms in a fake posture of death. He adored Callie, he really did, but his arguments with her were exactly like his arguments with Joe. They both out-talked him, twisted his words, and always had to be right. No wonder everybody thought he was so soft-spoken. He had no choice- he had been silenced for years! Sometimes it was like he was dating his brother. That thought made him smile.

"Is there something funny, Frank Hardy?" The sound of Callie's voice brought him back to reality, and he sat up. Smiling, he thought silently, _well, if you can't beat'em, join 'em!_

"Yes, baby," Frank replied as he sat up and offered Callie a huge smile. "It's funny how I didn't see the light when you were talking earlier. It's funny how I could have thought to argue with you. And you know what's the most funny?"

Callie couldn't tell if Frank was being sarcastic or not. "No. What?"

"It's funny how much I love you!" With that, he grabbed Callie, hugged her tightly, and started giving her tiny, quick kisses on her neck until she started laughing.

"That tickles!" she gasped. "Stop! Stop! I give up!"

Frank gave her one big, loud kiss on the top of her head. _MWAH!_ "Forgive me?" he asked playfully.

Callie shook her head and laughed. "Yeah, yeah. I guess I'm partially to blame, too."

Frank had to admit that the one difference between Callie and Joe was that at least Callie occasionally apologized.

"So… you want to see the ad?" she asked enthusiastically.

Frank had to laugh. Callie, God love her, never let go of an idea once she had one. Obviously, she wanted him to see this. "Sure."

"I'll be right back. Hold on," she replied and leapt off the couch.

A minute or so later, Callie returned to the living room and showed Frank several of the Classifieds. Frank shot her an odd look when he noticed that Callie had them all circled in red. "Any reason you're looking for guys?" Frank asked her, only half-joking.

Callie rolled her eyes. She proceeded to tell Frank the same story that she had told Vanessa. As Frank looked at the ads, something didn't strike him as quite right.

"Hey, Cal? These are a little odd, don't you think? Why all the weird numbers and dates? I mean, aren't most of these things more straightforward?"

"Frank!" Callie responded. "Stop looking for a mystery where there is none." She suddenly paused as something hit her. She eyed her boyfriend suspiciously. "And how, exactly, would you know what a normal personal ad looked like?"

Frank sighed inwardly and ignored the question. "Seriously. This is weird. I mean, the guy takes out ads all over the country? And..."

"Shhh!" Callie interrupted, placing a finger to her lips. "I'll let you solve the case of the _Perilous Personals_ if Vanessa gets chosen, okay? WHICH she won't."

Frank gave in. "All right, you win!" With that, he wrapped his arms around Callie and was about to kiss her when he heard a report coming from the news that caught his attention. Callie found herself looking at Frank's shoulder instead of his lips as he looked over her head at the screen.

"_In yet another incident of an increasing health crisis, what is now being called the "High School Horror" continues to claim more victims. This time, an outbreak of Meningitis has struck locally, and is beginning to call attention to itself as a serious national emergency. Elmwood High School, in Upstate New York, is the latest in a series of high schools to be shut down. Already, three teens have died from the Meningitis outbreak there, and officials are in a state of panic. National government officials are being called to investigate, as well as state government and agencies. So far, the only missing connection to this case is the appearance of the "shoe" cutout that has been sent to all schools involved. If the pattern continues as it has been, that should be coming to the school in a day or so. This national crisis has already claimed the lives of more than ten teens throughout the nation, with more in serious to critical condition. In other news…."_

Frank shook his head. Elmwood High School! That was only about a three- hour drive from Bayport. By now, Callie was engrossed in the story as well.

_"And finally_," the newscaster continued, "_On the international front, there has been another serious bombing this morning in Ireland at the famous Chapel of Saint Patrick in Dublin. This marks the ninth consecutive major bombing incident in Europe, all of which seem to be connected to some sort of terrorist group. Fifty people were killed or injured in this incident. Although most major details are being kept classified for now, we do know that this group has sent forth a message, stating, "Praemonitus praemunitus/ Sic semper tyrannis Ad corda." Loosely translated, this means "Be forewarned and forearmed; thus always to tyrants. To the heart." The cryptic nature of the message is unknown."_

"Frank? What's wrong?" Callie looked up at Frank's handsome face, which was now furrowed in concern.

"That bombing case. My dad is working on that! Just yesterday he was telling us…" Suddenly Frank stopped. Although he trusted Callie completely, he couldn't discuss the nature of his father's cases with her.

Callie, from years of dating Frank, knew this implicitly and didn't ask him any questions. Instead, she said, "It's terrible. Scary, isn't it, that nothing has hit the U.S. with all of this going on? Well, your dad is a fabulous detective, and I know he'll crack the case."

Frank was still concerned. "Thanks, baby. I hope so. That's bad enough, but now, that Meningitis scare is getting too close to home. Maybe…"

"Maybe you'll check it out, right?" Callie interjected with a knowing smile.

Frank blushed. Callie knew him too well sometimes. "Um, yeah. I mean, I thought I would relax for the last month of school, but if there's something I can do to help…." His voice trailed off.

"Oh, no Frank. You better not miss the prom! It's a good thing we have a few days off this week since we didn't use any snow days this year," Callie warned.

"Don't worry. I'll be there for the prom. How could I miss a chance to take such a gorgeous date?" he asked with a smile.

Callie shook her head. "Flattery will get you everywhere. BUT, back to the case!"

"Yes?"

"Well, the more heads involved, the better, right?" Callie insisted.

"That's what I figure. Besides, Joe wanted to check this out," Franke replied.

"Great! When do we go?"

"We? Oh, no Callie. Not this time. The last case…" Frank shuddered. "That was way too close for comfort for me. You're staying here. I'm not budging on this one."

Callie fought back annoyance. "Frank. I can take care of myself. You're way too overprotective of me, and you have to stop it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Frank!" Callie changed her tactic. "Listen. All you're doing is checking out this latest case, right?" Callie knew that appealing to Frank's logic over his emotion was generally the way to win him over.

"So far, yes, but we don't know where the case will lead," Frank cautioned, warily.

"Well, then, why can't we make this a nice day trip? You, me, Joe and Iola. Iola and I will chat in the car and hang out while you two do the dangerous stuff, and the rest of the time we'll just make a nice day of it. Chances are you can't get through anyway." Callie had no intention of sitting back, but she could deal with that aspect of her little tale later.

"Iola?! Callie, you're killing me here!" Frank answered, exasperated.

"PUH-LEAZE?" She flashed Frank her brightest smile.

"I don't know…"

"Look. We'll be perfectly safe. I told you Iola because I know Joe wants to see her, and I know the Mortons aren't crazy about that. However, they'll have no problem with Iola seeing me."

Frank looked at Callie in amazement. When had she become so devious? The day Callie would do Joe a favor out of the kindness of her heart….

He looked at her questioningly. "IF I say yes, it's only for the first day. Just to have fun. After that, we will all go home and you will stay there. You're right. Chances are, we can do nothing. But, if this case requires further investigation--no Callie. No Iola."

Callie smiled. "EWWW! Girls!" she teased.

Frank wasn't smiling. "I'm serious Callie. There's no way I'll endanger you or Iola. How will Vanessa feel about this, by the way?"

Callie sighed. "She knows I'm friendly with Iola. I'm trying to stay out of it. What the three of them do is their business. I'll tell her the truth. I'm talking to her tonight anyway. I think there's a new Personal ad coming out later today, and we need to discuss it."

Frank looked at Callie. How on earth she managed to convince him to let her come was beyond him.

"All right, then. Let me go home and talk to Joe. I also want to see how my dad's doing. By the way, I take it Joe's not supposed to know about this Personals deal?"

"Of course not."

Frank sighed. He hated keeping secrets from Joe, although Joe made him do the same to Callie. AND, it wasn't like Callie was setting up Vanessa with another guy. In a weird, odd sort of way, she actually had good intentions. Still, he didn't like it.

"All right, Callie. Promise me you won't get any more crazy ideas like this."

"Me? Never. I just like a good adventure."

THAT, Frank thought, was just what he was afraid of.

Standing up, he gave Callie a hug and a kiss good-bye.

"Tomorrow, Cal, be at my house with Iola at 8:00." He turned to her right before he left. "Hey Callie?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, but you drive me crazy."

"Yeah, but that's what you love about me," she answered, smiling.

Walking to his car, Frank could only think to himself that that was exactly the response that Joe would have given.


	4. Chapter 4

_So far, I have been able to update daily. I will continue to update every 1-2 days. Many thanks, as always, to those who review. I really appreciate it! Special thanks to MissMe113, Polaris, and Josie for your comments on the last chapter!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 4

At 7:00 the next morning, Frank jogged up the stairs to Joe's room and knocked on the door. When he didn't get a response, he opened it. There was Joe, lying in bed, sound asleep. Frank sighed. Already, as usual, he had been up for several hours, exercised, showered, and was getting ready to speak with his father and to get breakfast. Joe could be unbelievable at times. Frank was about to walk over to Joe's bed and get him up when he found himself tripping over some piece of clothing or something Joe had left on the floor. With an "UPH!" he landed right on top of Joe.

"What? What's going on?!" Joe mumbled, surprised, as he sat up in bed and tried to wipe the 'sleep' from his eyes.

Frank, agitated, smacked Joe's leg, hard.

"Hey!" Joe growled, suddenly awake.

"Get up!" Frank ordered.

"You're a grump in the morning!" Joe replied and stretched.

Frank took a deep breath to remain calm. "Joe, you really have to clean your room. It's a pig's sty. If I can keep mine clean, I see no reason…"

"Oh, shut up, MOM. Listen to yourself. I'd hate to be your kid." With that, Joe plopped back down on the bed.

"Anyway," Frank continued on, ignoring Joe, "you seriously do have to get up. It's 7:00. The girls will be here soon, and you need time to take a shower."

"I don't know if I need one. I took one yesterday," Joe said with a yawn.

"Believe me, you do."

Joe shot his brother a dirty look. Sarcasm was generally his area of specialty, not his brother's. "I'm still not happy that the girls are going. Chalk another one up to Frank gets suckered by Callie."

Frank was getting angry now "Just get up! Don't start with me, or Callie, for that matter. You know, if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't even be seeing Iola right now."

Joe refrained from commenting and bit his tongue, for once. "Yeah, well, it'll be good to see her, at least. Remember, if we find anything, we go back tomorrow, when they're out of danger, okay?"

"Yes."

"Well, get out of here, then. I need to improve on my natural good looks, if that's possible," Joe quipped.

Frank smiled at last. "Work on your modesty while you're at it." With that, he left the room.

Going downstairs, Frank couldn't help but to reflect on Joe's attitude. Although he was characteristically sunny, Frank could tell that Joe was apprehensive about seeing Iola. From what he could gather from Callie and Joe, Iola and Joe had spoken a few times, mostly when Iola had been able to sneak calls out. Joe felt bad about going behind the Morton's backs, but Iola had supposedly insisted that they'd get over their trepidation about the relationship in time. So, until then, if they had to sneak around, then so be it. Frank didn't particularly like any of this… Too many secrets! He couldn't tell Joe about Callie's Personal ads with Vanessa. Joe and Iola couldn't be open about their relationship. He couldn't tell Callie about his dad's case. When, Frank thought, did honesty become optional?

As he came down the stairs to the kitchen, Frank waited for his dad to come in. At the same time, he picked up the morning paper and immediately flipped to the Classifieds section, where the Personals were located. As he did this, he simultaneously murmured to himself, "I can't believe Callie has me reading this stuff!" He flipped to the ad he was looking for, and which he knew Vanessa was probably responding to as well. He soon came to it. This morning's ad was a bit different. It read

"_SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming still seeking his Princess._

_Today, you must have the following qualities:_

_509 ways you like to dance_

_10 times of 12 you'll treat me to surprises_

_Love big pepperoni pies_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella?"_

Shaking his head, Frank still thought the ad was just …off … in some way. Yes, some of the others were silly. He doubted that there were too many Tom Cruise look-alikes, for example, but this one, and the story behind it, just looked too different from the others. "Well, I guess it shouldn't bother me," he said softly to himself. "Apparently it's working because this guy has a lot of women to choose from!"

"Son, are you still talking to yourself? I told you that you should have gotten therapy for that years ago," Fenton Hardy said with a small smile as he entered the kitchen. Laura followed close behind.

"Oh, Fenton, be nice," she said, giving her eldest son a quick peck on the head as she went to pour herself some coffee.

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad. What's up?" Then, Frank noticed that his father was dressed in a suit, and had a suitcase nearby. "Where're you going?" Frank questioned his father.

Fenton Hardy looked disturbed. "Frank, I told you a bit about the case I was working on. Although I've tried to do a lot of work from home, things, as you can tell, are getting very serious. I'm going to Ireland in…" he looked at his watch "exactly one and a half hours. There is huge international pressure to get this case solved, and the United Nations is sending some of its specialists as well. Hundreds and hundreds of people have died in these terrorist attacks. We have to stop it."

"Yeah, Callie and I were watching the news the other day. They mentioned that Latin slogan that the group uses. It looks serious."

Fenton Hardy was perturbed. "They mentioned that?"

Frank looked up. "Yeah, why?"

Fenton looked down at Frank. "Come on, son. You know the answer to that. It's the same reason why certain groups, like _the Network, _can't reveal their identity."

Laura Hardy coughed. Both Frank and Fenton looked at her. "I can take a hint that I'm not supposed to hear this." She smiled. "I'll leave." Turning to her husband, she merely said, "I'd tell you to be careful, but then I'd only repeat what I've been telling you the past twenty years. Get home safely." She kissed him goodbye, and then left the room.

"Uh, Dad?" Frank asked his father. "You were saying?"

Fenton looked puzzled, but then seemed to clear his head. "Oh, yes. Frank, you can't announce what a terrorist group says, no matter how innocuous it may seem to be. You never know if there's some thinly veiled reference to-- well, something--that other terrorists want to know. Obviously, the first parts of the phrase are pretty straightforward. Have you thought about them? What do they mean to you?"

Frank paused a moment, as Joe came bounding into the kitchen. Apparently, he had been standing there for a few moments, because he seemed ready to jump into the conversation.

"I've got it!" he said, taking Frank's bagel from his plate and popping it into his mouth. Frank just stared at him, while Joe chewed. Fenton hid a smile. One of these days, his mild-mannered, even-keeled elder son was going to lose it with his impetuous sibling. Fenton was surprised it hadn't happened yet.

"Good morning, son."

"Yeah, Dad, you too. But listen!"

Fenton kept a straight face. "Yes?"

"The first part of the Latin saying is pretty obvious. It's like this group, whoever they are, are announcing that their intentions are purposeful. That's where the 'forewarned' comes in. It also is saying that they're not afraid. They're challenging, even kind of mocking, these various governments, telling them to be armed and ready for them. Still, no one can catch them!" With that, he took the other part of Frank's bagel and munched away.

Fenton was impressed. "That's right, Joe. Very good."

Joe, happy at his dad's approval, went further. "And the tyrant thing- well, that shows they're evil."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Duh, Joe."

"Whatever. You're just jealous about my intellectual prowls."

"Prowess."

"Whatever."

Fenton smiled.

"No, Dad." Frank continued. "I think there's more to it than that. I mean, what is a tyrant? Someone who usurps power."

"What does that mean? Use normal words," Joe grumbled. He knew he was smart, but sometimes Frank made him feel stupid, even though he knew Frank didn't mean to. _Well_, he paused, _most of the time he didn't mean to._

"It means to take power by force."

"Oh. Okay. Continue."

Frank did. "Tyrants take power, as these people are doing. The inference is that whomever they take will be subjugated…" he looked at Joe "ah…forced… to be subjects, or slaves, to, this master organization, ultimately. I don't really understand the last part."

"Nor do I. Hmmm. That's interesting, though.. Almost as though a master race or structure is being set up. I'll think about that angle. Good point, Frank," Fenton replied thoughtfully.

Joe coughed.

"Um, you too, Joe. Very insightful," Fenton added, suppressing a smirk.

Joe smiled smugly. Frank just sighed inwardly.

"Now, before I go, what are you boys up to these days?"

Joe answered. "We figured we'd check out the high schools where..."

Frank interrupted, "Where, ah, we're going to be playing the All-Star tournament. You know, check out the fields, hit some fly balls, the norm."

Joe looked at Frank. He got the hint, but he had no idea why Frank wasn't telling their father the truth. A moment later, there was a sound of a car pulling up in the driveway. Fenton looked out the window, and cast a surprised look at his sons. "Oh," he said, dryly. "That's why Callie and Iola are here, I suppose. To catch for you."

Before either one of his sons could respond, Fenton raised his hand to stop them. "You know what? I really don't even want to know. I hope to see you soon. I'll call you in a few days. Take care of Mom and Aunt Gertrude. Be careful, whatever you two are scheming." With that, he picked up his suitcase. "Try not to kill each other. Love you."

With those words, he was off.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you so much to all of you who have reviewed-- in a summer where things have been difficult, you all make me smile! Just wanted to send a reminder that "Fire and Ice", if ya read it, is independent of the stories that I am now posting; Iola was dead in that one, after all. So-- Hmmmm... we'll have to see who Joe eventually ends up with in these stories! :) BTW-- I know some of you all think that Callie is a little obnoxious, but she is one of my all time favorite characters. Remember that in this story everyone is 17 and 18, and in the Casefiles, Joe and Callie fought a lot. The 4 stories (this is #2) that I'll be posting here in order try to show the development of their relationship. This is obviously part of the earlier times!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 5

Almost four hours later, the group arrived at the outskirts of Elmwood High School, which was currently surrounded by a lot of people, both professional detectives and health officials. The ride up to Elmwood had been surprisingly pleasant, Frank thought. He had driven and Callie had sat up front with him, to allow Iola and Joe time to talk in the back. For the first three hours, while all of them talked and joked around, Joe and Callie hadn't even fought. Frank knew Callie well enough to tell that she was uncomfortable being in the middle of Iola and Vanessa. No one mentioned it, but her friendship with both girls seemed to underlie moments of silence.

Still, Frank had to admit that maybe Callie was right. Today was turning out to be fun after all. Frank had told Joe in the car that he hadn't wanted to worry their father, and that's why he hadn't said anything. Of course, he had wound up looking like a liar anyway, but he was willing to accept that. Hours three and four in the car had been a bit rough with Callie's and Joe's zingers and sarcastic remarks, fueled, Frank had to admit, this time by Joe. However, thanks to Iola's presence, Frank's refusal to get in the middle of things, and the CD which Frank had strategically brought with songs that Callie and Joe couldn't help but to sing along to, they had made it thus far without any real casualties.

As soon as they arrived, they parked a reasonable distance away, trying to avoid any unnecessary attention. Frank and Joe had decided to pose as students from the high school who were just curious to find out how things were going. That would be easy enough since there were, indeed, kids who were mulling around. What they really wanted to find out was the name of the first person who had contracted the disease, and to get some information about her or him. They also were waiting expectantly to get the famed "shoe" cutout, or, more accurately, to get a look at it. The mailbox was obviously heavily surrounded, but somehow, they'd have to find a way.

Turning to Callie, Frank said quietly to her, while Joe spoke with Iola, "Now stay here. You promised."

Callie squinted her eyes at him. "Yes, I know."

"Be good."

"Yes, mom."

Frank couldn't believe it! Joe had called him that just this morning. This was too much.

"I'm serious."

"You always are."

"Callie…"

"Frank…"

"I…"

"Frank, I'll be good, okay?" Callie cut in, exasperated. "I will stay here like a good little girl. I will keep Iola company and keep her away from the bad guys. Even if I see you are in dire danger, on fire and running from the building, I will refrain from offering you water and will instead call the proper authorities who are more _qualified _to assist you."

Frank smiled tightly at her and patted her shoulder. He motioned Joe away, leaving the girls behind. _Maybe I should have looked at those personal ads more closely,_ he thought warily.

"So… ready for action?" Joe asked.

"Sure."

"Boy, that girlfriend of yours…"

"Joe, stop it. Please. I'm not in the mood," Frank replied, warily.

Joe laughed. "Hey, guess what? Before we left today, I saw the Personals ad out in the paper. Maybe you should check it out. That'd be ironic, huh? You could find the love of your life in a paper and get rid of the real-life person!" He laughed again.

Frank's mouth dropped open, and he shut it with an audible snap. "Joe, you have no idea how ironic that very statement is," he muttered.

"What do you mean?" Joe asked.

"Never mind."

"Okay," Joe replied with a shrug.

The first part of this investigation would be easy. Frank split up with Joe so they would not be conspicuous. Walking up to a health officer, Joe put on his most concerned expression and poked him eagerly on the back of the shoulder.

"Huh?" The officer turned around. "Look, kid. You can't be here. Go back and play with your friends. You should be a minimum of 1,000 feet off the property. If you won't move, I'll get someone to move you."

_Friendly sort_, Joe thought. Still, he persevered. "Gee, mister, I'm awfully sorry to be a bother…" Joe tried to look sympathetic. He thought he sounded too Leave-it –To- Beaver_ish, _but he knew that often, feigned naiveté was the only way to get someone to talk to you.

"What do you want?" the officer snapped.

"Well, my friend is in the hospital now and he's real sick," Joe answered, wearing his most innocent expression.

"Oh yeah? Who?" the officer asked suspiciously.

_Uh oh_. The "_who" _was the part he hadn't expected. Quickly, Joe searched his mind for the names of someone he had heard of being in the hospital. He came up with nothing. As he felt each second tick by, he came up with the only name he could think of. "Mike," he said at last. _There had to be a Mike. Every school had a Mike, right?_

He watched the officer's expression change. "Oh yeah? I'm sorry about that. I know his family. I hope he's doing well."

_Whew_! Joe had to remind himself to start being more detail-oriented like his brother. Luck like that could only get him so far.

"Oh, thank you. Well, he was wondering about the kids who … died. Did they ever find out where the initial contamination came from?"

The officer looked suspicious again. "Why?"

"Just wondering. A lot of people are curious," Joe responded evenly.

"Well, I'll tell you because it's no secret and it'll be all over the news tonight. Maggie Hunterdon. She was only eighteen, poor thing-- would have graduated in a few weeks. Say, what did you say your name was again?"

Joe had the info, and was only too glad to escape. "I didn't. It's, um, Mike."

"Hey, wait a minute…"

Joe ran off as fast as he could and disappeared from site. _Stupid! _Of all the names in the entire world, he had to pick Mike- and twice!

About two minutes later, Frank came up behind him. Joe was still panting. "What happened? I saw you talking and then running. Did you get caught or something?"

"Nah," Joe said. "I've got it under control."

Frank doubted that, but Joe had gotten the info they had been looking for.

Frank spoke. "Well, on the other side of the campus, the mail was already delivered with police escorts, of course. Nothing. That means, if the pattern hold true, it'll either be delivered secretly tonight or it was previously mailed and will get here tomorrow. So, right now we could…"

"Check on Maggie Hunterdon!" Joe finished.

"You read my mind!"

Both boys knew, as they headed back to the car, that getting a family member of the deceased to talk to them would be a difficult job. However, they had about a half an hour to come up with a plan. Frank had brought along his laptop, so breaking into the school's directory, he expected, should not be a problem for him.

Returning to their car, Joe noted that both Callie and Iola were exactly where they said they would be. Hmmm. Maybe Callie finally was realizing that her place was not in the detective field and was settling down.

Frank informed the girls of their destination, and he heard Callie say to Frank as they were getting into the car, "Gee? Did I behave? See? I'm a good detective after all. What listening skills I have!"

With a small chuckle, Joe thought, _Nope. I was wrong. Callie Shaw will never settle down._

And with that, the boys set out to find out what had happened to Maggie Hunterdon.

**xxxxxxxxxxooooooooooocccccccccccccccccoooooooooooXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

As they approached the Hunterdon residence, Frank and Joe decided to stop about two blocks away. Telling the girls they'd be right back, they had decided to take a little walk and to decide how to approach the family. They also wanted to stake the place out in case they needed to sneak in for some reason. This left Callie and Iola sitting in the car, awaiting their return.

Iola looked at her friend. "Cal? You seem annoyed. Are you okay?"

Callie turned wearily to Iola. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that I can't stand this! I'm perfectly capable of going to that family and acting the part. I mean, I'm the person who performs in plays! I've worked on the paper, and I want to be a journalist. I really want to see some action! But NNNOOOO. I'm a girl. I can't do it. I just can't stand waiting around!" With a sly look around, she continued, "Come on! Let's go!"

Iola looked petrified. "N... No! We can't do that."

Callie looked at her impatiently. "Why not?"

"Because, you know, Joe wouldn't like it…"

Callie's eyes flashed. "Iola, I could really go places with that remark, but I won't. Now, give me a real reason."

"Well…" Iola faltered. "I mean, I don't really want to. Why do you want to get involved in these cases? I don't like cases, and I never did. They're dangerous."

"And?" Callie asked.

"Well, I don't want to get hurt. I'd prefer to just relax here with Joe."

"Oh, Iola," Callie sighed. "No risk, no reward. I don't want to be a detective, but journalism does involve a lot of detective work. And you know what? I'm good at it. Frank and Joe work well together, and I'd never try to break up their team. But I can help, and I have helped, and no one wants to listen. Frank I can somewhat deal with. I know he'd always let me help and ask for my advice. His problem is that he really worries about me because he cares. He's got to realize that although I sincerely appreciate that, I am capable. Joe, on the other hand, is obnoxious, sexist, and downright insulting. It's ridiculous!"

Iola disagreed. "No, he's not. He's the protective one. He's probably just looking out for you."

Callie had to laugh. "Please."

"No, seriously. And when did you two start fighting so much? Before everything… happened… with me, you always got along pretty well."

Callie pondered that. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I never thought about it."

Iola changed the subject. "Sooooo… I kind of wanted to ask you something."

Callie raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"It's about Vanessa. Were she and Joe, you know, serious?"

Callie felt the color rise in her cheeks. This was one topic she didn't want to talk about. Still, she felt obligated to answer. "Um, yes. No. Sort of. I don't know."

"Well, thanks for clearing that up," Iola replied, dryly.

Callie cleared her throat. "Iola, for a long time after you were gone, Joe didn't see anybody. He was too grief-stricken and he felt too guilty, I think. Then, he went through this sort of crazy phase for a few months when he dated tons of people. He was out of control! I think he did that so that he didn't have to become too attached to any one person. Then, Vanessa came into his life and they were pretty exclusive. I mean…well, yeah, Iola… Joe did love Vanessa."

Iola said simply, "Oh." She then continued. "I mean, Vanessa was great and all, and she really helped me out at the Clinic, but I don't think we'll be talking too much. I'm glad Joe found someone when I was gone."

Callie was surprised at that, but remained quiet.

"It was good for him. Even though, you know, it's funny. She's not his type at all."

Callie was startled. "I wouldn't say that…."

Iola interrupted. "Look, Callie. You can be friends with her if you want. I don't have anything against her. But she was a fling. I was Joe's first love, and he was mine. We're meant to be together. We even talked about this."

Callie, for once, had no idea what to say. She managed, "I see."

"I mean, look at how happy we are together! You see that, don't you?" Iola pressed.

Callie could only nod yes.

"Joe's gonna tell Vanessa soon. I feel bad for her, but we've both made our decision. She's a nice girl, and I respect the fact that Joe and her were together. She'll find someone new, don't worry."

Callie felt sick to her stomach, and she didn't know why. It was perfectly logical for Joe and Iola to end up together. They had once shared something very special. Still, Vanessa was her good friend, and she knew that Joe had once loved her, too. She felt terrible. Maybe, she thought, Vanessa will find her _real_ Prince Charming soon, then.

"You okay?" Iola asked, concerned.

"Hmmm? Yeah, I'm fine, really. I just… well, where are the boys?"

"I guess they're still checking out the place to see if anyone else is asking the family questions. You know how thorough they are when it comes to that stuff."

"Uh huh." Callie paused, then continued. "You know what? I'm tired of waiting. If they come back, tell them I've handled it. I'm going to find out exactly who this girl was. Wait here." She walked out of the car, in the direction of the house.

"Callie!" Iola shouted after her.

"I'll be fine," she replied in answer. In a minute, she disappeared from sight.

About five minutes later, Frank and Joe returned to the car, confident that they could speak with the family in less than a half hour, since clearly visitors to the home were beginning to leave. They had decided to take an alternate street back to the car, simply to check out the surroundings, which is probably how they missed Callie.

Frank was laughing at something Joe had just said. He peered into the car. "Hey, where'd Callie go?"

Taking a deep breath, Iola relayed Callie's intention as she simultaneously watched Franks' face drain of color and Joe's turn bright red.

Alone, the three could only wait now for the outcome, helpless to do anything about it.


	6. Chapter 6

Classified Secrets

Classified Secrets

Chapter 6

About an hour later, Callie came back to the car, opened the door, and got in. She didn't say a word. For about a minute there was silence. Then, Joe broke it.

"Callie!" he shouted. "Well?! I can't even believe that you just did that. But now that you did, what do you have to tell us?"

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?!"

"Nothing," Callie spoke softly.

Frank looked over at his girlfriend. Although Joe thought with good reason that she was being obstinate, Frank saw that something was wrong. Only he could notice the way she was slightly biting her lower lip, or the fact that she was a bit paler than usual, or the fact that, if he wasn't mistaken, her eyes were slightly red-rimmed, as though she had been crying.

"Well, great work, Miss Investigations!" Joe was really angry.

Frank cut in quickly. "Joe, stop it."

Joe persisted. "No, Frank, I won't. We had everything perfectly planned, and we would have gotten some answers, but miss know-it-all, miss "I can do anything better than you" had to cut in where she didn't belong. Are you happy Callie? Because now we might not have a case."

"I said stop it!" Frank raised his voice, which he almost never did. Joe was surprised. "Fine," he said, finally. "Listen, Frank, since we no longer have a case, I'm hungry. Drop me off at that restaurant we saw a while back. I'll take Iola to dinner. I think you and Callie should go someplace else for a while. Then come back and pick us up and maybe we'll go home and salvage something left of the evening-- if that's even possible. Maybe we should ask the great detective over there what she thinks."

Frank held back a comment. Joe HAD to get that last dig in.

"Joe!" Iola cut in. He stopped after that.

After dropping Iola and Joe off and promising to be back in an hour and a half, Frank broke the silence with Callie, who was looking out the window.

"Hungry?"

"No."

"Okay, then. I'll just get something later."

Callie nodded absently.

He drove around for ten minutes until he came to a quaint picnic area. Pulling into the lot, he turned off the ignition. Silently, he got out of the car into the warm sunlight, and then walked slowly around to the passenger side, where he proceeded to open the car door. Callie looked up.

"Come on," he said, offering her his hand. She took it.

Sitting down at a nearby table, Frank wrapped an arm around Callie's waist and pulled her close. Callie just rubbed her forehead with her hand, as though she had a headache.

"Now," Frank said softly, "Would you like to tell me what's wrong?"

Callie looked at her boyfriend for the first time in a while. "Frank, I'm sorry."

He hugged her. "I know. It's all right. Look, the girl's family might not have said anything, anyway, to us."

"No, Frank. That's not what I meant. Her family DID talk to me."

Frank pulled back and looked at Callie.

Callie had to smile. "Don't look so shocked, hon. I told you when I set my mind to something, I usually get it done."

"But I thought…."

"No. You were wrong." She squeezed his hand. "It was easy to get in. I pretended to be a friend who simply wanted to see how everything was going. They had recently moved to the area, they told me, so I played on that and pretended to be a new friend. That's plausible, right? Anyway, what a lovely family they were! This poor girl, Frank. She had a scholarship to a university. She was young and pretty. She played tennis and loved her dogs. It's so senseless."

Frank nodded, and kissed Callie's forehead. Obviously, that had been tough to go through.

"It's not just her, Cal," he said gently. "A lot of teens have died in the four high schools so far. Whoever is doing this has got to be stopped."

Callie looked up at him. She felt her eyes brim with tears. "That's not why I'm upset."

"I don't understand," he said gently. He hated to see Callie upset; she was usually so vivacious!

"Frank, I…." she hesitated. "I was allowed to go to her room. Her parents asked if there was any small token I wanted to take to remember her by. They left me alone for a few minutes. It was so sad."

Frank nodded sympathetically. "Go on."

"I was about to leave when I saw something sticking out from under the bed. It was a letter. Apparently, this girl had just started a correspondence with a new friend. At least, that's what her mom told me." Callie wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, and swallowed the lump in her throat. "She had even visited this friend, apparently, a few days before she contracted Meningitis and died. He lived somewhere out of state. Her parents didn't know where he was; she just-- went."

"I still don't understand, honey," Frank gently encouraged her.

"Do you know who she wrote to? I have no idea if there's any connection, whatsoever, but…."

"But what?"

Callie reached into her purse and took out one of the letters that hadn't been sent.

Frank's eyes widened as the sudden realization hit him. The opening read, "Dear Prince Charming…"


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I apologize to my fellow authors as I am a bit behind in reviewing your wonderful stories, but I promise to get to them soon!!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 7

That evening, back at the Hardy household, two of the four teens were in a relatively somber mood. Callie and Frank had been pretty quiet on the way back, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Callie knew that the chances of the Hunterdon girl's death being necessarily related to the "Prince Charming" ads was pretty minimal, but, then again, she knew Frank would want to check it out. She also felt compelled to call Vanessa the next night to warn her not to send in any responses, just in case she was wrong. Frank, on the other hand, was thinking about how on earth he was going to tell Joe all about what happened, without having Joe kill Callie. Callie had mentioned to Frank what Iola had told her about Joe and her getting together, and Frank was a little surprised about that, too. He could definitely see his brother with Iola, but it was, he thought, still a bit too soon for Joe to decide. The two of them sat quietly in the kitchen, holding hands, trying to think of something to say.

Iola and Joe, in the meantime, were having a grand old time for themselves. Joe was still pretty hostile towards Callie, but being with Iola made him forget all about her. After all, who needed a new case, when he'd been given a chance to spend his time with the love of his life? When they got back to the Hardys, Joe and Iola had settled in, watching a movie, snuggled in close together. Joe had initially wanted to watch the new action movie that had just come out, but Iola had given him a disdainful look at the thought of that. Joe didn't mind. He could understand that Iola had seen a lot of action—too much, in fact—so if she wanted to watch a "chick flick", no problem for him. He had also suggested playing Nintendo, but Iola again had snubbed that idea. _Oh, well_, he thought. Holding Iola close now, Joe looked into her eyes. She looked so lovely. Joe thought a lot of things in the moments before he kissed Iola-- he thought about their history; he thought about how lucky he was; he thought about how God had given him a second chance. What he did not think about, though, was Vanessa Bender.

Somewhere in the background, Joe vaguely thought that he heard a phone ringing. He ignored it, as he was preoccupied. Besides, after two rings or so, it seemed to stop. That was because Frank had heard it as well, and picked it up in the kitchen.

"This is strange," he said to Callie as he went to pick it up. "It's after midnight. Who would call now?"

"Hello. Hardy residence," Frank answered.

"Frank?"

"Yes." The voice sounded far away, and the line was filled with static.

Still, he recognized the voice. "Hey, Dad. What's new? How are you?"

Fenton Hardy sounded alarmed. Frank recognized the panic in his voice almost immediately, although he clearly was trying to hide it. "Son, I want to tell you that I will be out of touch for a few days. Something very, very bad has just happened within the last hour. Turn on the television set. I promise to call you as soon as I can, but tell Mom that I am working on this case and can't call home."

"Wait! Dad!" Frank tried for more information. "Are you still in Ireland?'

"Not for long. Look at the t.v. Goodbye." He hung up the phone.

Frank stared at the receiver in his hand, which now had an audible dial tone.

Callie came up behind him. "What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern. She gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

Frank turned to her, his face grim. "That was my dad. He said to turn on the television set. It's something to do with the case he's working on." He paused, then continued. "And it doesn't sound good."

Frank went to rush into the living room, but Callie caught him. "Um… you better tell Iola and Joe you're coming first."

"Why?" Frank asked, his mind already trying to fathom the possibilities of what he might see on the screen.

"Oh, come on, Frank. Why do you think?"

Looking at his blank expression, Callie sighed loudly, and then called out, just loud enough for anyone in the next room to hear, "AAAHHHEEMMM!! Joe, Iola. I'm sure you two are enjoying each… I mean, the movie… but your dad just called from Ireland, and Frank and I need to come in there. And we will be in there in five minutes." She paused. "In case you want to…um… finish the movie! Five minutes!"

Frank looked at her, and then he realized what Callie had just done. "Oh. Yeah. That was probably a good idea."

"I try."

Five minutes later, Frank and Callie entered the room, where Joe and Iola were nestled on the couch together, looking perfectly innocent except for the slightly mussed makeup and hair, and a few buttoning errors. _Good_, Callie thought. _I'd prefer not to envision anything._

"Turn on the news," Frank ordered.

"Why?" Joe asked, slightly annoyed.

"Just do it!" Frank snapped, as he filled Joe in on the brief conversation that he had just had with their father.

Fenton Hardy had been true to his word. Every major station was running footage of a terrible terrorist attack in Rome. According to the stations, a bomb had been set to go off in Rome, where hundreds and hundreds of tourists and citizens were killed and injured. This time, it had been set off in a marketplace in full tourist season. And, once again near the site, the Latin inscription had been found. They refused to comment, as usual, on exactly what the saying had been inscribed into. The four teens just stared at the television in horror.

"My goodness!" Iola finally managed. "How horrific!"

Across the screen were images of people screaming for their lives, of body bags and ambulances and families sobbing.

"What on earth is happening?!" Callie said quietly. "It seems like the whole western world is under attack in these last six months. Thank God we're not in Europe right now. Still… how heart-wrenching." She turned away from the screen. Joe flipped the set off.

"THAT's what Dad is working on?" Joe asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yup," Frank replied. "What's that? The tenth attack in almost six months?"

Joe became angry. "Well, what can we do about it? No one would be laughing if it happened over here!" Joe knew he shouldn't get so emotional, but he hated to see people suffer, and he felt powerless to stop it.

"I don't think anyone's laughing, Joe," Frank quietly responded. He knew his brother was upset at the images he saw, and also worried about their father.

"Frank," Callie said softly. "I think maybe I should drive Iola home now. Will you… discuss with Joe what we talked about earlier?"

As Joe looked at her, Frank quickly led her into the kitchen. "Yes. Of course," he said softly.

He and Callie had found papers from the last two days when they had returned home, and they had discovered that in the four targeted high schools, the first victims of Meningitis had been girls. All had been juniors or seniors. That could be pure coincidence, but Frank thought that he and Joe should check it out. Tomorrow, they would fly out to Texas. Frank knew that he couldn't ask Callie not to get involved at this point, and she'd be going with them. He also knew that Iola probably would go, too, since Joe apparently couldn't do much without her these days. In any event, they'd be a good cover.

Callie took a deep breath. "Listen, Frank, if you want to tell Joe that I told Vanessa to send in a response to that "Prince Charming" guy, I'm not going to stop you." She looked up at him. "Let's face it. The school cases are related by that cryptic "shoe" message, and the chances of the ads having the smallest thing to do with it are pretty much nothing. Still, I wouldn't ask you to go against your conscience. Joe may hate me, even though I really didn't mean any harm. But…" she paused, "Well, I'm used to that. I don't want to hurt Joe, and I'll admit to making a mistake if it'll salvage something with him and Vanessa. I'll take the fall. It was stupid."

Frank looked into his girlfriend's eyes. He wished Joe could see this side to Callie. What Joe saw was Callie's sarcasm, impulsiveness, and determination (or stubbornness, as he would call it). What Joe never took the time to look at was Callie's intelligence, kindness, humor, and generosity, in addition to the fact that she was probably the most honest and forthright person he had ever met. Above all, Callie was just a nice person, and despite her tough exterior, Frank knew she had a heart of gold.

Tilting her face up to meet his, he kissed her tenderly.

"What was that for?" Callie asked breathlessly, still warm from Frank's touch.

"I love you, Callie," he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her again. "And don't worry," he whispered in her ear as Joe and Iola walked into the kitchen. "The classifieds thing; that's our little secret."

He gave her a hug.

"What's going on in here?" Joe grumbled. "And what do you have to tell me?"

"Uh, bye," Callie said quickly, grabbing Iola by the hand. "We should go. You're not even supposed to be here, remember?" She stood on her toes and gave Frank a quick kiss goodbye on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

Callie grabbed Iola from away from Joe.

"Hey! Shaw!" he growled. He wasn't happy with Callie as it was.

"Bye, Joe!"

The girls left.

"You know," Joe started in, as soon as they left, "I'm getting tired of Callie."

"Stop." Frank was trying to be patient and to look at things from Joe's point of view.

"No! Stop making excuses for her!"

Frank counted to ten mentally before he responded. "Look, Joe. Callie found out something today that I think you should know about. She didn't blow a lead; she may have found one. I know this sounds outrageous, and it probably is nothing, but I think we should check it out. So hush for a minute, please, and listen."

With those words, Frank gave Joe as much information as he could find, including the fact that he had arranged for a trip to Texas the following day to check it out. If there was no "Prince Charming" in Texas, then it was a dead end, and they could try and follow the "shoe" lead, if, in fact, they wanted to take on the case at that point. He told Joe everything except for the fact that Vanessa had probably responded to the ad. He didn't see a point in getting all worked up over a suspicion that may turn out to be nothing. Besides, probably thousands of girls responded to the ads, and the chances of Vanessa getting picked were miniscule. Plus, Callie was supposed to call her tomorrow anyway. For those reasons, along with the fact that Frank didn't feel like having Joe mad at Callie, he decided not to mention it.

"Okay," Joe sighed, when Frank finished. "I'd still prefer it if Callie didn't go, even though it hardly looks dangerous."

"Joe, I can't ask her not to do that. It wouldn't be right."

"Why didn't she tell me about he lead when I asked her?"

Frank faltered. "Um… she was… upset about meeting the girl's family."

Joe was instantly suspicious. Frank was a terrible liar, at least to him. However, clearly he wasn't going to give in here. "Well, again, I had fun with Iola, so that'll be good to have her."

Frank sighed. He was suddenly very tired. The day's events had taken a toll on him, plus now he was worried about his father. "Okay, Joe."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. It means okay."

"What? Do you have some sort of problem that I'm with Iola again? Are you jealous that you and Callie don't have that spark anymore?" Joe couldn't help himself from chiding Frank.

Frank was too tired to even try to argue with his brother. Still, he did feel a need to make a point. Looking directly at his brother, he said flatly, "No, I'm not jealous. At least when I make a commitment to someone, I don't forget it so quickly."

He turned and walked out of the room. Joe, stunned by his brother's apparent reference to Vanessa, could only stare in shock after him.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks, as always, for the reviews!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 8

Vanessa sat in her bedroom the next morning and looked out the window, lost in thought. Late last night, Callie had spoken with her and told her the coincidence of the death at Elmwood High School and the fact that the first girl who had died there had written a response to the "Prince Charming" ad. Personally, Vanessa wasn't too worried at all about it. She was sure that the two weren't connected in any way. She had even told Callie that she was actually glad that someone else besides her had written to this guy!

Vanessa shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and turned to the picture that sat on the top of her dresser. Slowly, she lifted it into her hands and gazed at it, her own eyes filling up with tears. It was a picture of her and Joe last New Year's Eve, at a party they had attended together. Whenever Joe looked at that picture, he'd always laugh and say that night was so special because it was the first time he'd actually gone out and bought a new suit for any occasion, and clearly he had been the best looking guy in the room. Vanessa would always roll her eyes at that, but she couldn't help but to laugh back at Joe's infectious, if silly, brand of humor. The real reason that picture was so special was because it was the first time that Joe had told Vanessa that he loved her. Every time Vanessa had seen that picture, a warm feeling had come over her. Now, however, it simply broke her heart to look at it.

Vanessa took a few minutes and allowed herself to cry alone in her room. Never in a million years would she tell anyone how devastated she was that Joe wasn't with her anymore. She had always prided herself on being guarded with her feelings, and Joe was the one person with whom she had let that guard totally down. Now, as the sorrow made her heart ache, she realized that walls were built in the first place for a purpose-- to last.

She hadn't wanted to love Joe Hardy. Quite frankly, she hadn't even wanted to like him at first. He seemed too cocky, too vain, and too sarcastic to want to get to know. It had taken her less than a week, though, to realize that was only a front. Joe had been one of the most fun-loving and upbeat people she had ever known, and all his talk of how "hot" he was or what a great athlete he was served only to make others laugh. Now, though, she wished she hadn't tried to get to know that side to him.

As Vanessa continued to cry silently, she held a pillow to her face and wiped her tears on them. No, Joe hadn't come to her and told her that he was with Iola, but his evasive behavior and lack of communication made it all too obvious.

"I'm an idiot," she muttered raggedly to herself, trying to catch her breath. Vanessa was learning that nice guys did seem to finish last. She had helped Iola at Lazarus. She hadn't asked Joe to make a decision. She had offered friendship and support, and all she had asked for in return was honesty, which was the one thing she hadn't gotten. She'd even told Joe, "I can understand why you still love Iola, and I can't interfere with that."

"Idiot!" she said quietly, again. "Why didn't I just throw him into her arms? It would have been less painful."

Suddenly, Vanessa sat up straight. She inhaled slowly, and rubbed her eyes dry of tears. "No!" she said loudly, to assert herself. She knew she had to convince herself of her own words, so she could move on. "I will not be mean. Joe can have Iola. I hope they are both happy." Vanessa stuck out her tongue in disgust at the thought, but she really did believe positive affirmations made a difference in one's life. It wasn't working. So, she said the one thing that she finally did allow herself to believe. "Vanessa Bender, you deserve better than this." She paused. "Now go get it."

Vanessa grabbed the morning's newspaper from her bed and flipped immediately to the Classifieds section, which she had done for the past several days in a row. She knew it was silly. Her chances of being contacted by this guy were slim to none. Still, she had tried it to get her mind off Joe. Since that tactic hadn't worked, she then looked at this as a kind of amusement. Now, though, she felt herself daydreaming of her Prince Charming, whomever he may be, and hoping that someone would come and rescue her and treat her like a princess. She knew it was a fantasy, but she needed something to keep her going in these bleak days. Her handsome prince's face, though, kept blending in with that of Joe's , and her dream gown kept fading into the numerous advertisements on these pages for Prom dresses, which she obviously wouldn't be needing. Still, she kept reading, wondering what the new "requirements" would be. Today's ad was a little different. It read:

"_SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming has not yet found his Princess!_

_Tell me that someone fits my requests:_

_511 red roses in your dream garden_

_11 times of 12 you give smiles for no reason_

_Love French fries and English muffins?_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella?" _

Vanessa found herself fascinated by these cryptic descriptions. This guy must be incredibly exotic, she couldn't help but to think to herself. Blushing again at actually doing this, Vanessa sat down to write her request to the mystery man. _Maybe this time_, she surmised, _I'll send a picture_. Slowly, she began, in her neatest handwriting, "Dear Prince Charming…."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooo

Later that evening, the Hardys, Callie, and Iola returned back to Bayport from Texas. Iola kept chattering to Joe about how nice the trip had been, and how lovely it had been to get away, and Joe was soaking in every word, just glad to have spent time with her. He was a little anxious to get back to what was turning out to be a pretty interesting lead in their case, but he knew that he couldn't ask Iola to stop talking. After all, he had missed the sound of her voice for so long. So, he sat with her in his living room, listening to her stories and trying to concentrate on every word.

Callie, however, was sitting on the back porch of the Hardy home, trying specifically not to listen to Iola. She knew Iola was excited to be spending time with Joe, but there was a very important potential case here, and she wanted to sort things through with Frank and Joe. Now was not the time for chitchat, but if Joe wasn't going to say anything, neither was Callie. She was already on Joe's bad side. She had excused herself and gone to the back of the house. Although dark out, she could see the stars twinkling in the distance, and it calmed her. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scents of the spring season.

The next thing she knew, she felt arms enclose her waist from behind, and, without opening her eyes, she knew immediately that it was Frank. She placed her hands over his and leaned back against him. Callie gave herself an instant to enjoy the moment, and thought, _Now this is how is should be all the time. No detective work, no danger. Just us_.

Finally, Frank spoke. "Penny for you thoughts?" he asked quietly.

Callie opened her eyes, leaned her head upward against Frank's shoulder, and smiled. Then, she turned around, stood on her toes, and kissed him. She again allowed herself a few minutes to stay in the moment and to enjoy the warmth and comfort of her boyfriend, but, finally, she forced herself free of Frank' arms.

"Hey!" he said jokingly. "I was enjoying that!"

Callie sighed contentedly. "Mmmm…." Then she covered her mouth as Frank laughed at her. "Did I just sigh out loud?!" she asked. Then she grinned back at him. "Yeah, I enjoyed it, too."

"Well, then…." He continued, reaching out for her again, "come here!"

"Sorry, buddy. No can do!"

"Why?" Frank pushed.

"Because I just had a "Callie is your girlfriend" moment of weakness. But now we need to have a "Callie is a friend" moment of detective talk."

Frank playfully ruffled her hair. "Okay, partner, pal, buddy…. Let's talk, then."

Callie couldn't help but laugh, as much as she wanted to talk to him. "Okay. Let's go up to your room. I want to show you something."

"Now we're talking!" Frank joked with her.

Callie retorted, "We're in FRIENDS mode, now, remember! And what I want to show to you is on your computer!"

Together, they walked into the house and up the stairs, both of them passing by a still smiling Joe and a still talking Iola.

In Frank's room, Callie sat on the bed while Frank booted up his computer. She spoke up first. "Frank, I'm kind of upset about what we found in Texas. Do you… do you think there's more?"

Frank sighed. "I hope we're wrong here, Callie, but you know I need to check this out."

In Texas, they had visited the site of the first Meningitis case in Stockton West Maynard High School. It turned out that the first student to die there, and the one who had initially contaminated the others, was a seventeen year old student. After some investigating, they found out that the girl, Ami Woodson, had recently broken up with a boyfriend. Frank and Joe had visited one of the girl's friends, who had supplied them with that tip. She had also inadvertently added wistfully, "That's why she had even started answering those stupid personal ads." With that, it hadn't taken long to find out that Ami, too, had 'gone on a trip with a friend' a few days before her return to school. The "Prince Charming" ad now had a connection to two of the four high schools hit. They were both concerned.

"Frank, log onto the internet. Maybe we can trace the names of the first people to die in the other two schools. That will at least give us a lead before we know what course of action to take next."

"My thoughts exactly," he responded.

As soon as the screen popped up, both Callie and Frank could only stare. The first headline read, "Breaking News…. Quebec, Canada hit by Terrorism!" Frank clicked on the mouse to get the story. It took him only instants to realize that this was his father's case again. This time, there were two major bombings, again involving several hundred people, that had been set to go off in a busy museum at noon. The mysterious Latin inscription had again been found nearby.

"Oh, Frank," Callie said softly.

"Something's wrong," Frank responded, quickly. He looked at his girlfriend. "Callie, there have been too many bombings too close together. At this point, well over one thousand people from all over the world have been killed by some crazy terrorist group!" His voice rose. "And my father is right in the middle of it."

"Frank…"

"No, Callie!" He stood up. "This is crazy. I've got to try and reach him!"

"Shhhh…" she said, standing up next to him and giving him a hug. "I'm sure your dad will call. The best thing you can do now is to try and help a totally different set of people-- kids our age. I think we're onto something here, Frank. I really do. Although…" she hesitated, "I am getting really scared about these attacks. I mean, who knows where terror could strike next?"

Frank gave Callie a gentle squeeze, and sat down again. He was really frustrated, but Callie was right. There was nothing he could do for his father except to pray, and he'd be sure to do a lot of that. Shaking his head in disgust, he proceeded, along with Callie, to look up the names of the other High Schools that had been afflicted with Meningitis. Much to their dismay, they found that the first other two victims had both been senior girls. It took Frank only about 20 minutes or so to hack into the attendance records of the high schools. To his horror, he found out that both girls, again, had been absent only days before their return to school with Meningitis.

"That means…" Callie began, trembling.

"Yeah," Frank cut in. "It means that if we were to go to those High Schools, chances are excellent that both of these girls probably would have responded to the "Prince Charming" ads.

They looked at each other.

"We should tell Joe this, right away," Frank began.

"I agree."

As they were about to log off, Frank saw that another headline was flashing. Underneath the announcement for the terrorist attacks in Canada, Frank read the latest news flash.

It read, "_Fifth High School Horror Occurs! Five Dead in Florida High School."_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I am sorry about the delay and the fact that I have not commented on too many stories as of late. I WILL get to them—unfortunately, there's a lot going on right now. Still, you all are amazing!!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 9

The very next day, Joe, Frank, Iola and Callie arrived in Florida. If they could investigate this particular incident, and prove that this school, too, had a connection to the "Prince Charming" ads, then they knew that they had to contact the authorities to help them. Frank found himself desperately wanting to speak with his father. Not only did he want to make sure that he was safe, but he also knew that his dad might have some advice to offer on this kind of case. Like the one his father was working on, clearly these incidents appeared to be linked together. Also, in both cases, the terrorist group, or the sicknesses, in their case, both involved something left behind. Their father's case had the terrorist group leaving strange Latin mottos behind, whereas here, a "shoe" cutout, made of some hard plastic substance, was left behind as well. Frank was growing very frustrated by this case.

Glancing at his brother out of the corner of his eye, he was beginning to wish that Joe would take this case a little more seriously as well. Instead of helping him out and trying to actually get a look at the "shoe" design or to question the officials at the scene, Joe seemed more interested in amusing Iola. _Actually, change that_, he thought. He seemed more _amused_ by Iola, who had become more talkative about everything and less enthusiastic about anything to do with investigations than he had remembered. Frank couldn't help but to feel bad for Vanessa, and he didn't quite understand Joe's behavior. _But,_ Frank resigned at last, _it's his love life. Let him handle it._

"Frank?"

Frank turned around when he heard Callie call his name. They were standing outside their car at a far distance from the high school that had recently been closed. From this vantage point, they, or he and Callie, as it was turning out, could see movement and keep an eye on what was happening before deciding on their next move. It was getting late—almost 5:30, and he knew that most of the people would be leaving for the day within the next hour. That would give him some time to decide what to do. Of course, it would be nice if Joe helped.

Suddenly, he remembered Callie. "Huh? Oh, sorry." He gave her a sheepish grin. "I was just thinking that we could check out the grounds. It's too soon for the "shoe" cutout to have arrived but maybe we can see if there's a way that it could get delivered without the authorities being aware of it."

"Good idea," she responded. "Don't forget what we read this morning! At Elmwood, the cutout was delivered last night, and not by mail, either. Apparently, someone must have delivered it later. It's a little different from the first few cases, but the same thing could happen here."

Frank smiled at his girlfriend. She was becoming quite the little detective, and she had been a big help thus far on their case. He told her so.

Callie returned the smile, and they looked in the direction of Joe and Iola, who were talking by themselves a distance away. "But…."

"But what? Did I say something?" Frank asked her.

"No, you didn't," she replied. "But you're thinking that as much as I'm trying to help out, you'd still prefer it if Joe could get his act together and rejoin your team, huh?"

Frank just stared at her. How did she know that?

Callie laughed at his expression. "Oh, come on, Frank. How long have we been together? I know you. And… I'm going to help you out, right now. Let me go and distract Iola so that you and Joe can get started on the investigation." With that, she turned and headed in the direction of the couple.

Frank couldn't help to be thankful that he had such an incredible girl.

A few minutes later, Joe came bounding over to Frank with a goofy grin on his face. "Hey big brother!" he said.

"I was beginning to forget what you looked like," Frank grumbled.

Joe's grin fell. "Look, Frank, you know I'm here to work. You know how I feel about standing around and doing nothing. I figured that when you wanted to move, you'd get me. In the meantime, I thought I'd hang out with Iola, okay?"

Frank looked at his brother steadily. "Joe, do whatever you want. I hope you know that I'm not standing around doing nothing. I'm trying to plan out next move. OUR next move, Joe. Not mine. I'd appreciate a little help."

Joe sighed. "All right, Frank. I don't understand why you think about things so much. Why don't you just kind of go up to one of the guys and get the info? This isn't the world's most difficult undercover investigation."

"Oh, really, _Mike_?" Frank replied sarcastically, referring to Joe's near disaster at Elmwood.

Joe tried not to get angry. "Frank, we're not seeing eye to eye lately. I got the info, didn't I? No pun intended." He had to grin at his own joke.

Frank wasn't amused. "Joke all you want, Joe, but the reason we're not getting along is because we're not seeing each other at all. We need to talk."

Joe sighed. He was getting impatient. "No, we don't. Let me see what I can find out." With that, he took a jog down the road and approached one of the officers. Frank just stared in disbelief at him.

Joe thought he'd take the direct approach. Why was Frank always plan, plan, plan? His older brother would probably even have to plan how to be spontaneous. And, for all the times that Frank's thinking had gotten them out of jams, his actions had saved them the other half. _I'll have to buy him a rocking chair, the old man, for his next birthday_, Joe thought to himself.

He went up to a police officer on duty, who had just been helping the health officials. "Hi!" Joe began, flashing a bright smile.

"Can I help you?" he responded, appearing perturbed at having to deal with a teenager.

_What is it with me and grumpy cops_? Joe thought. "Look, officer, I need a favor. I realize that this case is still under investigation, and that I'm probably not supposed to be here.

"Yes, you're right about that."

Joe persisted. "However, my father, Fenton Hardy, the detective, is working on this case, and he'd like me to get some quick info for him. It's nothing much."

Joe hoped his lie would work. He hated using his dad's name, but once in a while, he had to do it. It was simply the quickest way to get responses sometimes.

"Hardy? I never heard of him."

Joe sighed. This wasn't Bayport, and although his father was internationally known, his fame ran in the circles of those who needed to know. Suddenly, he had a great idea.

"Listen, we're from Bayport, in New York. If I can get one of the chief detectives in the department there to speak to you, would you let me know what I need to? You can verify his badge number and everything."

The officer still looked dubious. "What do you want to know anyway?"

_Finally_! Joe continued, in his best appreciative voice. "Thank you, officer. All I want to know is if you have a picture of what this "shoe" cutout looks like, since it obviously didn't come here yet. I then want to know the name of the first person who died here. That's it."

"Hold on a minute." The officer left, but returned a few minutes later with what appeared to be his commanding officer. He then related his story to him as Joe listened. At the mention of Fenton Hardy's name, the commanding officer perked up. "Hardy! I know that name! You his boy?"

Joe nodded, hoping for some insight.

"Sure, sure," he chuckled. "I transferred down from New York about five years ago. I never knew your dad, but he helped with a fair number of cases. I also ran into—what's his name? O' Ryan? Reily?"

"Sure!" Joe said, finally recognizing the name. "Con Riley!" _Thank goodness_, Joe thought, _that he's our one ally on the force._

"Yeah- good guy!" Joe politely continued the small talk with this officer, making up lie upon lie about why he was down there in the first place. Twenty minutes later, however, he was done, and five minutes after that, he was back at the car.

"What took you so long?!" Frank asked, worried. "I could see you with those cops, but I didn't know if you were in trouble or not."

Joe simply smiled, resisting the urge to be smug. "Listen, Frank. I told you I could get the info. You were right. It was a girl who died first; he name was Deanna Ortiz. Check that out on your laptop. I think you know what the result will be anyway. Also, I got a look at a picture of that shoe cutout, and I found out that officers will be circling the building tonight in case there are any suspicious deliveries."

"Did the shoe have any distinguishing characteristics?" Frank prodded, eager for any new information that he might be able to attain.

"Well…" Joe blushed. "Frank, you might think I'm crazy, but it looked like… well, it looked hollow and pointy and sort of old-fashioned, the design I mean."

"Yeah? And? Why did you give me that weird look?" Frank knew Joe had discovered something.

"Well, um… it sort of looked like a woman's shoe."

Callie, who had been listening, chimed in. "So what's so weird about that? I mean, was it a dress shoe, a sneaker, an evening shoe, a slipper—I mean, what?"

"Yeah! That's it! It kind of looked like a hollow slipper. Weird, huh?"

All of a sudden, Callie gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Callie? What's wrong?" asked Frank.

She ignored him and turned to Joe. "Joe, you said it looked like a hollow slipper?"

"Yup," he answered. Where was Callie going with this?

"Joe!" she cried. "Don't you get it? What are the personal ads being referred to?"

Joe stopped for a moment. "Prince Charming," I think."

"Yeah, and what fairy tale do you see that in?"

"What? Snow White?" Joe wished Callie would get to the point.

"No, silly, Cinderella," Iola chimed in, happy to get one response. Joe smiled at her. "Great job!" he said.

"No!" Frank and Callie said together. They looked at each other. "Go ahead," Callie said to Frank.

"Joe," Frank chimed in, suddenly understanding where Callie was going with this. "We already knew it was Cinderella. It says so right in the ads. There's got to be a connection!" Frank was excited now.

"Why?" Joe asked.

"Because!" Frank and Callie said together, again.

Now Joe saw the light.

"Because the "shoe" is the glass slipper!" Joe couldn't believe he had missed that!

"Yes!" Callie smiled.

"Huh?" Iola asked. Joe turned to her. How could she not get that? Patiently, he explained it to her. "Oh!" she said, finally understanding. "That's nice."

"Now, we've got to act!" Joe said, happy to get a lead in the case.


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you to all who have reviewed

_Thank you to all who have reviewed. I have been going through a really hard time as of late, so I sincerely apologize to all authors who have written such wonderful stories that I have not yet commented on (sleuth girl, Helen, Red, Phoenix, Dawn, Alicia—the list goes on and on). As soon as things settle down, I WILL get to your stories!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 10

Vanessa Bender bounded into her house that same day back in Bayport. She couldn't believe it! She had just returned from her mailbox and there, sitting right in her hands, was a white, medium- sized envelope. The front read simply "Vanessa." Throwing the rest of the mail on the dining room table, Vanessa bounded up the stairs two at a time until she reached her room, which she immediately shut the door to. Vanessa just stared at the envelope, which, she noticed, was embroidered, very much like an invitation. The back of the envelope said simply, "From Prince Charming." Vanessa felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. Hands trembling, she gently tore open the envelope.

Inside was a lovely piece of stationary that matched its accompanying envelope. A note was typed on it that Vanessa absorbed with her eyes and her heart.

_My dear Vanessa,_

_I was pleased to receive your correspondence and picture the other day. Since I receive hundreds of pieces of mail each day, my staff helps me to select the ones that they believe I would be most interested in. I believe they have chosen wisely. You certainly look like a Princess!_

_I have enclosed for you a round-trip ticket from your hometown of Bayport, which seems to be THE PERFECT small town, to Florida, where I am currently staying. Upon your arrival at the airport, you will be picked up by limousine and will be invited to stay at my Palace for a few days. Any accommodations you wish for shall be granted to you. You will have your own room to stay, and will have access to call whomever you would like once you are there. At that point we shall meet._

_There is one stipulation, however. Due to my national search for a Princess, I prefer to keep all details of my location a secret. Thus, it is my request that you tell no one where you are going. You will be back in three days time, at which point you will do whatever you choose. However, by that point, perhaps you will want to share in my Kingdom of the Heart forever. You wrote that your heart has been broken; I specialize in areas of the heart, and hope to mend it._

_Looking forward to crowning my Princess,_

_Prince Charming_

Vanessa re-read the letter several times. It was so mysterious, and yet, at the same time, exciting! She couldn't believe that she had been selected above so many other girls from around the country to meet this man. Vanessa realized she shouldn't do it. It was probably harmless, but there really were no specific details in the letter. Besides, what would she tell her mother? Then, she remembered that he mom was leaving for a conference in Manhattan on computer graphics and design that would last for four days. Vanessa could leave and return without her mother ever knowing the difference!

"Oh, this is silly!" she said out loud. But then she looked up at her dresser, where pictures of her former real Prince Charming now stood. There was Joe and her at Christmas; then there was Joe goofing around at the beach; finally, there was a picture of the two of them that Callie had taken just three months ago, as they had danced together on Valentine's Day. Joe had loved that picture so much he had gotten it framed for her, and on the frame was engraved, "I love my Vanessa!", which was the perfect way of Joe being goofy and emotional at the same time.

Suddenly Vanessa realized that she had been crying, and blinked her tears back. "Fine, Joe Hardy," she said out loud to herself. "I'll show you that someone else might think I'm a Princess!" Fighting back the sadness that enveloped her, Vanessa put down the letter and began to pack, trying to convince herself that another man could just as easily take Joe's place in her heart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxx

Joe Hardy, meanwhile, was sitting outside his car with Iola. Frank and Callie were inside together, waiting for a few more minutes before they would start their search of the area for clues. It was dark out now, and the last of the officials seemed to have gone home for the evening. They had tried to time the circulation of the police cars at a distance, this way they could snoop inconspicuously. Joe could tell at this vantage point that he cops didn't seem to take their job too seriously, obviously thinking that since they were even around, no one would try to deliver anything. Each time they passed, their routes began to get longer and longer, and Joe could even hear radio and laughter at different intervals. "Remind me to hire professional guards if I ever need it", he said jokingly to Iola.

Iola seemed distracted. Joe sighed. He couldn't believe it, but he was beginning to run out of things to say to her. They'd look at each other and smile, but she seemed somehow different. He found himself thinking, as he looked into the starry sky, of what Vanessa must be doing right now. He'd never run out of things to say to her. Unlike Iola, Vanessa joked with him all the time, liked to play fight, and could spend hours challenging him to video games. She loved action movies, and was always interested in his detective work. He was beginning to realize that he missed her-- a lot.

"Joe?" With a start, he realized that Iola had been speaking to him, and he felt incredibly guilty for letting himself think about Vanessa. He was so lucky to have Iola back in his life; he had loved her so intensely, and he had dreamed forever about what their perfect love reunion would be like. Yes, he thought. Iola had to be the one for him.

"Hey," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her to him.

Iola smiled, but Joe thought he picked up the faintest trace of hesitation on her part. "Joe, I'm tired. And I'm cold. And I'm hungry. I really don't know if it's a good idea that I'm out here with you. Besides, I'm not much of a help anyway. I mean, Callie's more into this sort of thing."

Joe tried to pick up the positive pieces of Iola's comments. "Callie? Nah. She's a pain in the neck. She's Frank's little eye candy, that's all she's good for. I mean, she helps every once in a while, but Frank winds up trying so hard to protect her he forgets about the bad guys."

Iola pulled away from Joe. "That's not very nice. I like Callie."

"Why?!" Joe questioned. He didn't like where this conversation was going.

"For a lot of reasons. Frank is right. You two are a lot alike."

Joe hated that comment. He thought he hated it more and more each time Frank or anyone else said anything like it. "You don't know what you're talking about!" he snapped at her.

Iola looked totally taken aback, and Joe watched her eyes fill up with tears. Instantly, he felt terrible. How could he have raised his voice to her?! At once, Joe reached out to Iola and held her tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. " I shouldn't have done that. I... I'll take you back to the hotel, okay? We can all come back here, and be back in an hour. I shouldn't have taken you here."

Iola looked up at him. He was so handsome, and she really did love him, even though… even though there was something different now. Iola ignored the thought. "Thank you, Joe," she said. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem… dear", Joe responded. Somehow, he couldn't call her "baby." That was what he called Vanessa all the time, and he couldn't say it to Iola. It wouldn't be right.

Joe knocked on the car window, where he couldn't help but to notice, glancing in, that Frank and Callie were laughing at something, their heads close together. For an instant, he felt a brief pang of jealously. After all these years, his brother and Callie, despite anything he had tried to say or do, still looked very much in love. He wondered how it came so easily to them, and it was so hard for him now.

"Yes?" Frank questioned, rolling down the window.

"Ah… Iola's not feeling so great, so I thought I'd drop her off at the hotel and we can come back in an hour or so."

Frank looked suspicious. "Joe, you know we can't wait that long. I kind of wanted to check things out now."

"Well…" Joe began.

"Its okay," Callie said from inside the car. "Frank and I will stay here and check things out. Take care of Iola. Come and get us in an hour or so."

Joe couldn't believe it! Callie had just bailed him out. He was sure he'd hear about that for some time to come, but for right now, he took the bait. "Thanks, Callie," he said to her, as he and Iola switched places with Frank and Callie.

After they drove away, Callie looked up at Frank and asked, "What now?"

"Well, you could tell those officers didn't look too enthused about staying in one place. Why don't we go around the back and start looking for drop off points? Meet me in fifteen minutes. Be careful," he added at the end.

"Yes, honey," Callie said with a straight face, and they both headed in opposite directions. After fifteen minutes, they met up.

"Nothing unusual on my side," she told him.

"Mine either."

"Okay, then. We'll split up again, Meet me at the front entrance of the school in somewhere between 20 and 25 minutes. That should give us plenty of time to be thorough. If we don't find anything there, the chances are pretty good that this will be an example of a mail drop-off and not a delivery. Remember to avoid the cops. Any questions?" Frank asked her.

"Nope! But Frank?"

"Uh huh?"

"Be careful."

Frank just smiled as he watched Callie head off in the opposite direction.

After about 10 minutes of searching, Frank was about to give up. _This place is big_, he thought, _but there's not much room for a drop-off point where something could easily be found_. It was then that he heard it. There was some sort of noise in the distance, and it seemed to be getting closer. At first, Frank thought it was the rustling of the leaves, but he soon recognized the sound as footsteps approaching him in the distance. Frank stayed down low and watched as two men, dressed in black, seemed to head in the direction of the gym. "Oh, no," Frank breathed softly. "Callie's over there!"

Frank knew he had to do something to protect his girlfriend. He crept over towards that direction and finally the men planted what appeared to be a package, which Frank resumed was the "slipper", right by the gym entrance. Much to his relief, Callie was nowhere in sight.

As they headed back in the initial direction from which they had come, Frank decided to follow them. He needed to find out who these guys were. Soon, they disappeared from his sight, but he had managed to see something fall from one of the men's pockets. Frank waited a few minutes, and then, when it looked like the coast was clear, he went to check it out.

That turned out to be a big mistake. Just as Frank went to pick up what seemed to be a wallet, he heard someone return. Since he was in the middle of an open field, there was simply nowhere to go. The man looked as stunned as he was. There was one difference between the two, though, as they stood facing each other. The other man had a gun.

Before Frank could react, he saw the man grab the gun, and he heard a soft "thwp" as a bullet ripped through the air. "A silencer" was the last thing Frank had time to think before he felt an incredible burning sensation in his right side. He was hit. Grabbing his side, Frank fell to the ground. Vaguely, he heard the man run and pick up his wallet. He was running away when he must have had a second thought: "don't let him chase me."

With that, Frank felt a second sharp, shooting pain through his right knee as a second bullet hit him. The pain was so horrible that Frank, lying on the ground, and struggling to breathe, felt himself wishing for unconsciousness, but it simply wouldn't come.

When Frank hadn't returned after a half -hour, Callie began to get worried. If there was anyone who was meticulous about being prompt, it was her boyfriend. She decided to retrace his path, or where he should have been, anyhow. After five minutes, she didn't see anything. Then, for some reason, she just felt a compulsion to look towards the spot where she and Frank had initially spoken. She walked there. Nothing. As she was about to give up, she saw a small figure, way in the distance, huddled on the ground. Fear gripped her, and she instantly knew.

Running as fast as she could, she found her boyfriend, lying on the ground. His face was pasty white, and his shirt was covered in blood. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that his leg was as well.

"Oh, God, God!" Callie cried frantically. She sank to her knees beside Frank. He was shaking terribly. Callie felt her heart stop beating, and she could barely breathe. _Not Frank, _she thought silently to herself_. Oh, God. Don't let anything happen to him!_

Reaching over, she took off her light jacket and covered Frank with it, as she tried to put pressure on his wound with her hand. The touch made him cry out in agony. Tears streaming down her face, she cradled a semi- conscious Frank in her arms and wished to God Joe would get back.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," she sobbed. "You'll be okay."

"Oh," she moaned, holding him tightly. "I love you."

Crying, all she could do was wait.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you for the reviews. I promise that when things settle down I will get to everyone's stories!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 11

Joe returned back to the school about fifteen minutes late, which wasn't too bad for him. As far as he was concerned, things didn't usually start to liven up until he got there, anyway. He had dropped Iola off, and made sure that she was comfortable. Then, he had made a quick stop at McDonald's. All this sitting around was making him hungry, and he realized he hadn't eaten in a while. He would have bought Frank and Callie something, too, but he had spent the last of his money on a nice vanilla milkshake. Besides, if they were that hungry, they could certainly get something when they got back to the hotel. Oh, well. At least he wouldn't have to do any detective work tonight.

He could see what his brother had found out, which he suspected was nothing, and then he could go with Frank in the morning to report their findings to the local and to the national authorities. This case was pretty interesting, and he was eager to catch the sickos responsible for killing teens with a rare strain of a virus. Shuddering, Joe couldn't help but to think what a terrible way that must have been to go.

At first, Joe didn't see Frank or Callie. "That's strange," he muttered. "They probably just found a nice, quiet spot to relax."

Joe yawned, beginning to think that his brother probably had the right idea. He was about to close his eyes and wait for either of them to show up when, in the distance, he saw flashing lights. Joe peered out more closely and realized that it wasn't just the police this time that he saw. If he wasn't mistaken, there was an ambulance there, too. At once, Joe felt his stomach turn, and his mouth became dry. Turning back on the ignition, he gunned the car over to the front of the school. Then, turning off the engine, he hopped out and prayed that his brother and Callie were okay. As soon as he turned the corner, his heart dropped. His brother was on a gurney, ready to be taken in the ambulance.

"Oh, My God!" Joe shouted. He ran to his brother, who looked as pale as death.

"Is he…." Joe croaked, barely able to get out the words.

"Who are you?" one of the medics asked, while two others were working on Frank, attaching a breathing apparatus and some sort of i.v. into his arm.

Joe could barely speak. "His brother."

The medic's face softened slightly when he spoke. "He's in pretty bad shape. He was shot, twice. We need to get him to the emergency room now. You can follow in your car if you want. There's no room in the ambulance."

Joe felt like he was going to hyperventilate. His brother looked terrible. He wanted to talk to him, to touch him, but within moments, Frank was in the ambulance and the sirens went on. An instant later, a police officer was tapping him on the shoulder. Joe, confused and, trembling, could only look in his direction.

"I heard you just a minute ago. The kid's your brother? I can take you to the hospital. Do you know the girl?" the officer inquired.

Joe looked over in the direction the officer had just pointed, and he saw Callie, huddled on the ground, covered in blood. "Callie!" he called. "Is…"

"She's okay. She flagged us down and we were able to call an ambulance. When we got to her, she was back with your brother. She's in shock right now, and we haven't been able to speak with her. We'll obviously need to do that, later. Is she your sister?"

Joe could barely manage to shake his head. "N…no. She's my brother's girlfriend."

"Is this a case of love gone wrong?"

Joe was shaken back to reality by the implication of that question. "No! Never!" With that, he ran to Callie.

She looked horrible. Joe, anxious to get to the hospital, slipped an arm around Callie's waist and guided her into the police car. He sat next to her as the officer pulled out into the parking lot. It was not until they arrived at the hospital and they were ushered into a "family and friends" waiting area, that Joe first got a chance to speak with Callie.

"What happened, Callie? Frank was shot?" Joe asked, desperate for answers.

At first, Callie didn't respond, but, rather, just stared right past him, not even appearing to see him. Joe noticed she wasn't crying, but she was paler than he ever remembered seeing her. She was, however, trembling badly, and was covered in blood. With a gulp, Joe couldn't help but to realize it was _his brother's_ blood. He felt terrible for Callie, too. What had she seen to make her like this? Softening his voice, he repeated the question. Callie seemed to respond better to that tone.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his and said, voice cracking, "I… I don't know. I got there. We were apart. And then…"Callie wasn't making sense.

"Slow down," he told her, trying to be calm.

With a great effort, Callie seemed to be coming back to reality. She told Joe exactly what had happened.

Joe had to turn away as he felt his eyes burn with tears. He should have been there! He should never have left with Iola. Then came an even worse thought. If he hadn't stopped for food on the way back, he could have helped. This never would have happened. He suddenly felt very sick. Running to the bathroom, he vomited. _The worst thing to live with,_ Joe thought miserably, as he washed his face, _is guilt. Please, please God_, Joe prayed, _let Frank be okay_. _I will never ask for anything again._

Returning to the waiting area, Joe heard his name being called. He approached the doctor.

"Your brother is in surgery right now," the doctor began. "He lost a lot of blood, and the bullet that entered his right side may have caused internal bleeding and damage as well. That's our biggest area of concern. The good news is that his leg will be okay. The bullet just grazed it. I mean, I think sports and dancing are through for a while, but he'll certainly be able to walk okay in a few weeks. As far as the internal injuries, that's what we're working on now. We'll simply have to wait and see."

"He'll be okay?" asked Joe, daring to hope.

"Again, we have to see. He should be. I think we got to him in time, but surgery is always risky. I will come out and update you. This surgery could be a few hours, depending on the extent of the damage."

Joe felt slightly better. "Thank you," he whispered.

Returning to the waiting room, he looked at Callie. He told her the news. She looked so sad, and Joe's heart went out to her. He knew what life was like living through a waiting game, and they were in this one together.

"I… I'll be right back," she said.

A few minutes later, Callie returned, having wiped blood off her face and arms. She sat down next to Joe. Without really thinking about it, Joe took off the sweatshirt he was wearing over his tee shirt and gave it to Callie.

"Here. Wear this," he told her. He didn't really want to look at Callie's blood-soaked shirt any more, and he wanted to keep her warm.

Taking it, she whispered, "Thanks."

Joe was fighting back his own guilt and worry and he didn't know how long he could hold it together. He blinked back tears as he stared at the clock. At once, he felt Callie take his hand and squeeze it gently. "It'll be okay, Joe. I know it will."

Joe turned to Callie, his eyes burning with unshed tears. In an instant, he took back every bad thought he had ever had about this girl, and saw Callie with the eyes of his brother. Joe moved next to Callie and hugged her tightly. He knew she was with the one person who could really understand the deep pain and worry he was going through. He felt her breathing change and become ragged, and he knew that she, too, was holding back tears. "It's okay to cry," he said softly to her, as his own tears slipped down his cheeks. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head, and continued to hold her, realizing that he needed the hug as much as she did.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Mr. Hardy?" Joe thought he heard someone calling his father but paid no attention. Instead, he tried to shift in his chair and to get more comfortable.

"Mr. Hardy?" This time Joe couldn't ignore the name. It took him a second to realize that _he _was Mr. Hardy, and that the doctor was trying to get his attention. Joe was instantly alert as the events of the past few hours came rushing back to him. He must have fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he realized it was almost 4:00 a.m. Joe looked at the doctor.

"Your brother's out of surgery now. He should be fine. There was some internal damage that we were able to repair, and he'll be in some pain and pretty weak for the next week or so. Also, he'll need to be on crutches for at least a few weeks. The bullet grazed his knee, but we still had to do minor surgery where it did hit. He is one very lucky young man."

"Can I see him?" Joe asked, anxious.

"Sure, although he's sleeping right now. Let him. He's had a rough night. Have me paged if you have any questions. He's in Room 303."

"Thank you!" Joe exclaimed, feeling relief wash over him.

Joe looked at Callie, who had also just awoken.

She met his eyes, and smiled. "Go ahead. He's your brother. You can come and get me when he wakes up. I have a feeling you'll want to talk to him."

Joe, impulsively, leaned down and gave Callie a hug. "You were right. Frank's okay."

Callie stood up, weakly. It had been too long of a night. "I'm always right, Joe."

Joe laughed for the first time in a while. Same old Callie. Things were getting back to normal.

"Then you must take after me."

"Oh, good lord!" she quipped back.

"Hey! Have you called Iola?" Callie suddenly asked.

"Iola!" Joe groaned. "No, I forgot. I…" he looked longingly at the elevator.

"I'll do it. Go to Frank. And don't forget me later."

"Thanks, Callie," Joe said quickly, and rushed towards the elevator.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Close to four hours later, Joe Hardy watched his brother begin to move for the first time. Frank squinted his eyes and tried to open them. Slowly, but surely, he did. Joe had thought that he would be okay once he knew that Frank was going to be all right. However, looking at his brother, who was so pale and hooked into an i.v, brought back all of the emotions that Joe had felt the night before. _I should have been there _he thought to himself for about the hundredth time that day.

Frank took a few minutes, but finally focused on Joe. "Hey," he said weakly, "I'm alive. These bad guys ought to be better shots, you know?" He gave a small smile.

Joe again fought back tears and swallowed hard. He tried to return Frank's smile, but he couldn't. He had come too close to losing his brother, and there was simply nothing funny about that.

Frank peered more closely at his brother. "Joe? You okay?"

"Well, no Frank. You almost died and..." Joe's voice cracked. He turned away from his brother.

"Joe. Look at me," Frank said to his brother.

Joe turned around, slowly. He wiped the tears from his eyes, hoping Frank didn't see them.

"Joe, I'm your big brother. I couldn't go and die on you. Who'd get you out of trouble all the time?"

Finally, Joe managed a smile. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

Suddenly, Joe was serious again. Joe looked Frank in the eye and said what he'd been dreading. "I… I'm so sorry, Frank. I left you there. I never should have done that. And then, I stopped off and got a Happy Meal and that made you wait longer and …" Joe couldn't finish.

Frank let out a big laugh, and then gasped in pain and clutched his side.

"Are you ok?" Joe asked, rushing to Frank's bedside. "I can call a nurse."

"I'm fine," Frank asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Don't cry!" Joe exclaimed, not knowing if Frank was crying in pain or because he was angry at him.

Frank had a silly grin on his face.

"What?!" Joe asked,

"You had a Happy Meal? Did you at least get a toy with it? I hope it was a good one!"

Joe would have smacked Frank if he wasn't hurt already. "How can you laugh about this?" Joe asked, somewhat upset.

"Oh, Joe," Frank said softly, while his smile faded. "What else can I do? Cry about it? Yeah, it's horrible, and to be honest, it hurts. It really hurts a lot." Frank winced, and held his side. "BUT, I'm alive, and I'll be okay, and we've still got a case to solve. So... let's go!"

"You still want to work on this?" Joe asked, incredulously.

"Well, yeah. I mean, we have to, Joe. A lot of kids have died, and we've got a connection now, which we have to report. Maybe we can find this guy ourselves, even though it's a long shot." Frank paused, and then chuckled. "No pun intended."

Joe rolled his eyes. That was something he would say.

"Frank?" Joe asked, serious again.

"Yes?"

"You really scared me. I thought you were gone."

The brothers stared at each other.

Frank broke the silence as he looked at his emotional brother. "Are you going to give me a hug now or something? Because I feel I should at least be warned."

Joe broke into a huge grin. "You bet!" He leaned over and held onto Frank tightly, being very careful not to cause him pain. "I love you."

Frank sat back as Joe pulled away. He was still in a lot of pain, even though he was trying not to show it. "I love you, too, Joe."

Joe felt like he was getting back to normal. "Well, you should. I'm a lovable guy."

Frank sat up quickly as a thought hit him, and immediately realized it was a mistake. "Owww!" he moaned, trying not to call out.

"What's the matter?"

"Where's Callie? Is she okay?!"

"Yeah. I'll go get her."

Minutes later, he returned with Callie. Frank looked up and was shocked to see Callie's jeans covered in blood. For the first time in all the years they'd been together, Callie actually didn't look neat.

"What? Do I look that bad?" she asked.

Joe was about to leave to give them privacy, but Callie caught his arm. "You don't have to leave, Joe." She reached over and gently kissed Frank, then sat down on a chair next to the bed and held his hand. "How're you feeling?"

"Better, now," he said, looking into her eyes.

Joe was a little jealous. In those two simple exchanges between Frank and Callie, there was more love and emotion than a thousand 'I love you's'. He longed for that connection with someone, and couldn't help but to think of Vanessa, as much as he tried to push the thought of her out of his mind. So, he felt compelled, looking at the couple in front of him, to do what any mature, forward-thinking and admiring person would do when confronted with such love.

He crossed his eyes and made a gagging noise.

That broke the spell.

"Great, Joe. I see you've been working at expressing your emotions," Callie sighed.

"I hear there's a great Laundromat a few blocks away. Why don't you go there? Just a suggestion."

"Why? When you're the one who's all wet!"

Frank sighed, loudly. Some things never changed. "Will you two stop it, for me? Please. I really don't think I can handle this now."

Frank then squinted at Callie. "Are you wearing Joe's sweatshirt?"

Frank caught the look between his girlfriend and brother. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" they both said at once.

Frank shook his head. "I'm surprised you both didn't kill each other."

Frank couldn't swear to it, but he thought they both blushed.

"No—we, uh, got along okay. Joe was great. I mean, good. Well, he was okay. For Joe. You know what I mean," Callie stammered.

"Yeah—uh, what she said. Except for Callie," Joe added, bushing.

"What?!" Frank asked.

"Nothing. Let's get back to the case," Joe interrupted.

"We need to take a look at those columns again in the Classifieds. Joe, can you pick them up?" asked Frank.

"Sure. I'll get Iola and she probably has the ads from the last few days back at the hotel."

An hour later, the four friends sat in Frank's hospital room, ready to scrutinize the personals and to try and catch their "Prince Charming."


	12. Chapter 12

_Again thanks for all who have been so kind and reviewed. Sorry for the delay with this chapter. Give me a few more weeks to get everything straightened out here, and I WILL get to your wonderful stories. Thank you for your patience._

Classified Secrets

Chapter 12

Vanessa Bender stood outside the airport in Florida, waiting for a limousine to pick her up. _This is ridiculous_, she thought for the umpteenth time that day. As soon as she had boarded the plane from Bayport, her initial excitement had turned into feelings of apprehension. Who had she been trying to kid? As bizarre as this whole situation was, she couldn't deny any longer the fact that she still loved Joe. She couldn't even blame him for wanting be with Iola. After all, Joe was her first love, and if something ever happened to him, and she then had a chance to make it right again, she knew that she would try. Now, here she was, getting ready to meet some complete and random stranger, in the hopes that he'd fill Joe's shoes.

_What was I thinking? _she couldn't help but to ask herself. Vanessa sighed. She must have been suffering from a case of temporary insanity. _Well,_ she thought, _I'll just have to meet this guy, thank him, and be on my way. At least I got a mini vacation out of it!_

Vanessa scanned the airport waiting area and then realized that she honestly had no idea what she was looking for. How would the limo driver even know who she was? She, herself, had no idea if there was a particular size and color limo that she should be looking for. _Maybe a big pumpkin coach will come and get me_, she thought wryly, and then smiled at the absurdity of this all once again. Vanessa decided that she'd had enough. She turned around and headed back towards the ticket area, where she would try to schedule a flight home. It was then that she saw it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Vanessa caught a huge sign being held that said, simply, "Princess Vanessa." A man in a uniform of all white was smiling brightly in her direction, holding the sign in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other. He was attracting a lot of attention from passersby who were looking at him in wonder and with puzzled expressions. "Vanessa!" he called out in her direction. Vanessa felt her face turn bright red. "_How embarrassing!" _she cringed, never one to call attention to herself. Still, with reservation, she slowly headed in his direction.

As soon as she arrived, the flowers were handed to her, along with a little crown. Vanessa was mortified. She looked at the driver, who looked impeccable in his uniform, complete with gold buttons and cufflinks. She looked down at her own sundress, and felt out of place immediately.

"Welcome!" he said, smiling brightly. "The Prince would like to extend his greetings and his regret at not being able to meet you here himself. Come, shall we be going?"

_This is too much! _Vanessa thought. _This guy must really either be a Prince, or he sure thinks he's one! _Vanessa felt the old excitement return to join the butterflies already in her stomach. She couldn't help but to think that Joe would love this—what a mystery! Then again, he'd probably love it a lot more if it wasn't her involved in this particular scenario. She wished she knew where Callie was—she'd love to tell her about this. Callie wouldn't believe it.

"Um, thanks. Do you know where we're headed?" she asked the driver.

The smile never left his face. "I better, eh?" he quipped.

Vanessa nervously laughed. Still, she wanted to be as informed as possible, just in case anything went wrong. So, she persisted. "Yes, that's true, but… can you tell me?"

"Yes, I can, but I won't. The Prince has requested that everything be kept a secret. You'll find out everything you need to know, all in due time. Now, please, it's time to go." With that, he opened the back door.

Vanessa began to get an uneasy feeling. This guy was being both elusive and, if Vanessa wasn't mistaken, a bit forceful as well. Still, it seemed legitimate enough. It wasn't like this guy hadn't ever picked up other girls the same way. And, the chances of her being kidnapped in broad daylight with all of these other witnesses in plain sight, was pretty unlikely. So, with a bit of hesitation, Vanessa boarded the limo.

As soon as she did, she felt instantly ill at ease. From the outside, it looked as though there were a lot of windows, but on the inside, she saw that it wasn't the case. They must have been for show only, because the inside was without windows all together. Vanessa began to feel her heart beat loudly as the limo began to move. Although she knew it wasn't smart, she tried to open the door. She couldn't. It was locked. She also realized she couldn't see into the front —apparently, there was some wall blocking the front and the back of the car.

Having nothing else to do, Vanessa looked around. As scared as she was now becoming, she couldn't help but to notice that everything in the limo was done with style. There was a bar, a television set, and lighting all around. Vanessa glanced at the crown in her hand. She was no expert, but it certainly looked real. She then noticed a box on the opposite side from where she was sitting. It had her name on top. Hands trembling slightly, she opened it. Inside there was a beautiful dress, high -heeled shoes, and white gloves. "_Wear these, my potential princess, on our first meeting tonight_" the card read.

Vanessa felt her eyes well up with tears. What had she gotten herself into? Who was this guy? She was too old to play dress up. She found herself praying that this wasn't some sort of pervert, or someone who could hurt her. Vanessa looked around wildly. Music from Cinderella began playing in the background. There were no windows. The door was locked. Vanessa realized she was essentially in a moving tomb. Holding on to the crown tightly, she began to cry.

XXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOXXXXXXOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOOOOOO

RING! RING! Joe Hardy heard his cell-phone go off but, as usual, he couldn't find it. RING! Joe sighed, searching through the many pockets he had. RING! Finally, it was silenced. Joe threw his hands up in exasperation, realizing that whomever had called him probably had gone directly to his voicemail.

Joe and Iola were sitting in their hotel room, relaxing. About two hours ago, he, Iola, Callie, and Frank had tried to piece together some sort of pattern to the ads. Although they had agreed that the ads were certainly cryptic, Joe, himself, could find no rhyme or reason to why, exactly, they were worded in their particular manner. He was getting frustrated by this case, and now he was determined to crack it. No one messed with his big brother, and now this was personal.

Looking over at Iola, he smiled. As much as he had been thinking about Vanessa lately, he couldn't deny the fact that he still loved Iola. He knew she was less than enthusiastic about him being on a case so soon after her return, but he could understand that. She had been though absolute hell, the extent to which he realized he'd never know. Not once had she brought it up, either, nor had she tried to make him feel guilty about it. Joe couldn't stop himself from thinking that Iola would never need to make him feel guilty about what had happened. He'd always feel that way.

"Hey," he said to her.

He was trying to think of how to contact the authorities, in terms of who would be most likely to be able to catch this guy and also who would let him help. He would have discussed this more with Frank, but after a half- hour or so of looking at the ads, Joe could tell that Frank was beginning to feel the effects of the previous night. He knew his brother well enough to know when he was hurting and, although Frank was trying to hide it, Joe knew he was in pain and needed to rest. He left Callie there with Frank who, when he had left, had been gently stroking Frank's hair as he drifted off to sleep. He knew he and Callie might never be best buddies, but after last night, he realized how deeply she loved his brother, and that was more than good enough for him. Of course, he'd never tell her that. So here he was, sitting back, waiting for a few hours before he'd go back and visit Frank and get things going on the case.

Iola walked up to him and hugged him. "Hey, yourself," she answered him at last, snapping him from his reverie.

Joe sat her down on his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "Thanks for coming today," he said to her.

Iola looked at him, and Joe knew something was wrong. "Are you okay?" he asked her, full of concern.

She kissed his forehead. "I'm fine. But Joe?" She hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there last night. If it wasn't for me, you could have been there with your brother. I was selfish. My needs came before your own, and I'm sorry. If, God forbid, Frank had been… I can't even think it, Joe!"

Joe dreaded those words, as they reminded him of his absence the night before. Still, he was glad Iola had said something. This was the Iola he knew.

"Baby," he began, and then was hit with an instant pang as he thought of Vanessa. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, thinking about what a mess his love life had become. Was it even possible to love two people so much at the same time? Frank would say no. Then again, Frank had only ever loved Callie. "Honey," he began again. "It's not your fault. I can't expect you to be involved in our cases. Never, ever again will I think of involving you. You deserve so much better than that. Than me…." Joe found himself choking at his last words, because, for the first time, he realized they were true.

Iola looked at him with compassion in her dark eyes. "Stop, Joe. That's not true. I do think, though, that after this case is over, that maybe we should, you know, talk about some things." Iola smiled bravely.

Joe felt his eyes sting with tears again. He didn't think he'd cried so much, or held back so many tears, in ages, and he felt vulnerable. He hated that feeling. "Iola," he said softly, looking into her eyes, "I love you. I really, really do. I can't express to you what you've meant to me." He corrected himself. "What you mean to me."

Iola fought back her own tears and tried to stop her lips from quivering. "I love you, too, Joe. I know we'll be all right. Together, we can get through this."

Joe clung to her tightly, and was about to kiss her when his phone started ringing again. Iola laughed. Joe loved to hear her happy, and he felt better as well.

This, time, though, he picked up his phone on time.

"Hello?"

"WHERE have you been?"

"Dad?" Joe had left two messages on his dad's cell phone, telling him about Frank and asking for his advice on their case. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered his father, especially when he was working on his own case, but this case needed to be solved, and fast. The more minds working on it, the better.

"Yes, of course, Dad," the voice growled.

_Uh oh_, Joe groaned. He could tell he was in trouble.

"Joseph, you can not leave me messages on my cell phone like that. You almost gave me a heart attack! Is your brother okay? Is he…"

"Dad, he's fine." Joe proceeded to tell his father all about what had transpired.

He was met with silence on the other end.

"Um, Dad?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Did you listen?"

"Joseph, OF COURSE I listened. I'm not in a good state of mind right now. You call to tell me that my eldest son was almost killed, and that now, as we speak, he's lying in a hospital bed having been shot twice."

"But…"

"And then," his father continued, "You tell me that yet another high school has been hit with Meningitis, and more kids are dead, and that you know they're all connected to some sort of ad in the paper."

"Well, yeah, but…"

"That is somehow connected to Cinderella and her glass slipper."

"Yeah, Dad, but…."

"Joseph, do you know how crazy this sounds?!"

Joe sighed. "Dad, look. I know it sounds crazy, but it happens to be true. We figured that part out. Now, we need to find the pattern. Do you think I would bother you for no reason? I couldn't take it if someone else died because of me, because I didn't do something on time."

"Check the local papers to find out if there's a way of tracing who sent in the ad. Someone had to pay for it," Fenton replied at last.

"Did that. Nothing. Anonymous check was sent."

"Well, then, do the same thing for at least a few of the national papers."

"Did that. Same thing."

"Did you check the computer files from Con or anyone on the force to see if there was an escaped or newly released prisoner noted for a Cinderella fixation?"

"Yup."

"What about mental institutions?'

"That, too."

"Have you checked wealthy land areas, in terms of who would have the resources to even come up with something like this?"

"I'm working on it."

"And still nothing?"

"No." This game of twenty questions was getting to be too much for him. He appreciated his dad's help, but he and Frank had been at this a long time and knew the basics. What he needed was the extra advice.

The line was quiet for a minute. Joe was about to speak when he heard his father's voice. "Joe, I don't like the fact that this guy- or girl- leaves these "slipper" insignias around. You know I'm working on a totally different case, but we have the same problem here, and I haven't got any answers, either. This is quite worrisome."

"How is your case going?"

"Not well."

"I've heard about it. Canada this time, huh?"

Silence.

"Joseph, I'm coming home tomorrow. Let me help you with your case. Maybe it'll give me some ideas of my own."

"Um, you can't do that."

"Why on earth not?" Fenton asked, exasperated.

"Well, we're kind of in Florida, don't forget."

Joe heard his father exhale, loudly. "Fine. I'm coming to Florida, then. Meet me tomorrow at noon, and don't take your time about it, as usual. I want to see you and your brother immediately. By the way, that's just the two of you, and not Iola Morton or Callie Shaw. And yes, I know Frank is in the hospital, so you will pick me up and then we'll go there, okay?"

"Yeah. Um, thanks Dad."

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything." He paused. "And Joseph?"

"Yeah?"

"Please try to stay out of trouble until I see you again. Get all the papers you possibly can with the ads for me. I'm doing this not only to help you and the kids in the high schools, but potentially to save thousands of lives on my own case. I hope you realize the terrorist attacks are in North America now. That means…"

Joe gulped as the implications of his father's words hit him. "That means the U.S. could be next."

"Yes, son, it does. Please be careful."

"I will."

"Love you."

"Love you, too," Joe said, blushing because Iola could hear every word on his end.

"Don't be late!"

"I won't." With that, he heard the dial tone.

"What could happen here?" Iola asked.

"Um, nothing. My Dad's coming down tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, he should help, right?"

"I hope so."

Then, looking into Iola's eyes, he whispered, "Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" With that, he took Iola in his arms and covered her lips with his own.

He couldn't help but want to protect her knowing his father's warning, and he wanted to warn Vanessa as well. However, if he had learned one thing, it was to live in the moment, and, as he kissed Iola, that was exactly what he was doing……..


	13. Chapter 13

_Thanks to Missy for the lone review on the last chapter. It was appreciated!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 13

A few hours later, Callie Shaw entered the hotel where they had all been staying, and headed up to the room that she shared with Iola. She knew that Joe and Iola were there already, but she needed to speak to Joe alone. Callie had hated to leave Frank, even for a few minutes, but she wanted to get changed and, more importantly, she absolutely needed to see Joe. Besides, Frank was still weak and in pain, and she knew that he needed rest. She would return with Joe and Iola in a little while. _Well_, she hesitated, _maybe not. Maybe I'll have to go back myself_.

Callie approached her room, where she took out the sliding card for entrance. She couldn't help but to notice that Joe's room had a "do not disturb" sign out front. With a sigh, she realized that she'd have to call over there before she popped in. Callie was extremely worried, and very, very tired. She couldn't remember when the last time it was that she had slept. She'd been trying to solve the case with Frank a few nights before, and then there were the past two traumatic days where she had made every effort to concentrate on Frank and not herself. Now, she found herself longing for bed, but knowing that wasn't an option.

Twenty minutes later, Callie felt a little better. She had showered and dressed, and put on a little bit of make-up. _At least I feel slightly human again_, she couldn't help but to think to herself. She had taken the bloody clothing she had worn from the night Frank had been shot, and put the articles away in a plastic bag. She could barely look at them, as they brought back the horror and the fear she had felt, holding Frank in her arms, thinking he wouldn't make it. She fought back tears at the thought. _Okay, Shaw, time to get it together, _she thought. Callie's stomach had been churning at the discovery of the "Prince Charming" ads, and that this person, whomever he or she was, was responsible for killing high-schoolers.

The first problem was that there was no motive or no way to track the person, at least based on what she had seen. The second, and by far worse, problem for Callie was that she had been trying to call Vanessa all day long yesterday. At first, there had been no answer, but then she had received a message on Vanessa's answering machine, which apparently she had changed at some point during the day, which said, simply, "Hi guys. I'm out. I'm away for a few days. Leave me a message and I'll call you back." Immediately, Callie had panicked. She had tried to logically convince herself that Vanessa's probability of being selected by this person was slim to none. Then again, Vanessa was a school attendance junkie. Even though she and Frank were in the top five percent of their class, it was actually Vanessa who probably worked the hardest. She had been nervous, after moving from the city, that she would fall behind, so she always made it a point to go to school, even when she was sick. It had driven Joe crazy, who tended to push the attendance limit to the number right before credit withdrawal, himself.

So, Callie had known, right away, that something wasn't right, and her gut instinct, which Frank would have told her to ignore, was telling her that Vanessa had been contacted by "Prince Charming." She couldn't tell Frank about it; he needed to rest, and besides, he'd try to use logic to tell her that Vanessa's chances of even meeting the guy were minimal, even if she WAS selected, which was even more unlikely. Iola certainly wouldn't want to hear about it. Not now, at least. Callie looked at her hands. They were trembling. Was it because she hadn't eaten, or slept, or because she was consumed by guilt and terrified of speaking with Joe? Probably all of the above, but the latter was weighing by far the most heavily on her mind. She looked down at the phone and then, slowly, dialed Joe's number.

"Come on, come on," she whispered as the phone continued to ring. Finally, Joe picked up. "Hello?"

Callie took a deep breath. "Joe, it's Callie. I need to talk to you."

"What is it? What's wrong? Where's Frank?" Joe's voice was filled with urgency, and Callie realized he hadn't known that she had left the hospital.

"Frank's fine, Joe." She heard him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Look, but I'm not. I seriously need to talk to you. Please, Joe. Right away. It's important."

"Are you okay?"

"For now."

"Where are you?"

"Um, next door, in my room."

"You're not at the hospital?"

"Right." She figured now would not be a good time for sarcasm on Joe's listening abilities.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be right there."

"No, Joe. Look, can you have Iola come here first?"

She heard him sigh loudly. "I don't like this. Is that idea really necessary?"

By his word selection, Callie knew Iola was right there, and he didn't want to have her hear what Callie was talking about.

"It is."

"All right," Joe grumbled. "Give me five minutes, then come over. This better be worth it."

He hung up.

Callie stared at the receiver in her hand, inwardly griping about Joe's lack of manners. Then again, in about five minutes, he might want to kill her, so there were bigger issues to address.

True to his word, Iola had come knocking five minutes later. "Is everything all right?" she asked with concern.

Callie smiled feebly at her friend. "I guess so. It's really been a horrific few days, huh?"

Iola agreed, and gave her friend a quick hug. She pulled back for an instant. "Callie? You look exhausted!" Callie, who was normally so put-together, still looked beautiful, but Iola couldn't help to notice the dark circles under her eyes, which Callie had done a masterful job of trying to conceal, and the worry lines in her forehead.

"I'm okay. How are you?" Callie really did want to know how Iola was, but she was growing impatient needing to talk to Joe. Part of her, though, she had to admit, didn't mind delaying the confrontation that she knew was inevitable.

"Good. Really good." Iola smiled. "I mean, Joe and I have a lot to talk about," her grin fell slightly, "but we do love each other and we'll try to work everything out."

Callie was confused. Hadn't Joe and Iola decided they would be together? She said, "I don't understand."

Iola looked okay, though. Callie didn't think she was lying about that. Apparently, Iola and Joe had spoken of something. "Look, Cal, just between you and me…. Joe and I will probably end up together. There's definitely that love there. Although now—well, things are obviously a lot more complicated. Besides, in truth, I can't ignore the presence of Vanessa in good conscience. I happen to like her, a lot. She helped me when I don't know that I could have done the same, if circumstances were reversed."

Callie could only stare at her.

"Don't look so surprised. I think Joe needs to talk to Vanessa and sort out his feelings. He hasn't said anything, but an idiot could tell he's still conflicted. I can't even blame him. I'M conflicted, too." Callie watched Iola's eyes brim with tears. "I don't know what to do, or what I'd do without him. I don't even want to think about that. But… Vanessa deserves the respect of Joe talking with her. I told him that, too. I'd want that respect. I know I've been a little slow lately. I HATE danger. The thought of something happening to me again like Lazarus is incomprehensible. Don't think I'm stupid, because I didn't understand the glass slipper. Don't think I'm insensitive to Vanessa, because I'm not. Above all, don't think I don't love Joe, or that I'm using him, because that's not true, either. I want this to work, so badly. I never knew love could be this hard."

Callie started to cry. She'd been so stressed out and had been literally worrying herself sick for the past few days. Besides, she had tried to be strong for Frank, and even for Joe. She realized, at that moment, how much others had been suffering as well. Iola was strong; much stronger than she had given her credit for. Callie couldn't believe she had tried to push Iola into investigating. She felt guilty. Joe was strong, too. How was he dealing with Iola and Vanessa? Deep down, she had always known Joe had integrity, and he wouldn't leave Vanessa alone, without explanation. Sometimes, things just took him a little longer than others. How would she have acted if she had lost Frank, and then had fallen in love with someone else, only to have Frank return? She honestly couldn't say she would have been so quick to pick sides, herself. She felt guilty about that, too. Then there was Frank, who probably had come looking for her at the school, and had gotten shot. Maybe if she had insisted that they stay together, or that they had all dropped Iola off, he'd still be okay, probably holding her now. Guilt again. And her biggest regret was Vanessa. Callie really had meant well on that one; she wanted to distract Vanessa from her own pain. In hindsight, there would have been better ways to go about it, but now, left with the possibility that Vanessa might be hurt because of her, the guilt was consuming her. She had to sit down as she again felt her stomach flip-flop and a migraine headache coming on. For once, she almost had no control over her emotions. She literally could not stop crying.

Iola sat next to her and asked in shock, "Callie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Callie could not stop herself from tears. She just nodded yes. Iola had no idea what to do.

About ten minutes later, Joe came to Callie and Iola's room, muttering, "What's with that girl? She says 'I need to talk now' and Hello? Where is she? Chicks."

Joe was making a concerted effort on the outside to be nice to Callie. He sensed she was doing the same. In the hospital, he had realized that despite the fact that they'd always drive each other crazy, that Callie was a good and strong person. For perhaps the first time, he truly realized that she was his friend, too. Still, she DID drive him crazy, and he didn't know how long this peaceful inclination would last. He knocked at the door. To his surprise, Iola answered.

"Hey," he said, giving her a quick hug. "Where's Callie?"

"Joe," she responded, quietly closing the door behind her, "I have no idea what happened, but she totally flipped out. She's exhausted, and she's hurting—I can tell. But she won't tell me why. She's just crying in there, trying to calm down. I hate to ask you this, but could you talk to her? Please? It'd be a nice gesture, since Frank isn't available."

Joe was concerned. Still, he made time to kiss Iola.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"Because you're one of the kindest people I've ever met, and I love that about you. Yes, of course I'll talk to her."

Iola gave him a hug back. "Thanks, Joe. I'll, um, hang out in your room, I guess."

"Sounds good," he responded, as he entered the girls' room.

Joe saw Callie immediately, sitting at the edge of the bed. She looked like she had calmed down, at least according to what he had been told by Iola. However, he saw what Iola meant, too. Callie had her head in her hands, and when he got close enough to her, she saw that her eyes were red-rimmed, and she was pale. Joe thought in an instant, despite himself, how physically pretty Callie was, and how being around Frank and him seemed to always drain her on these cases. THAT was just one reason he never liked her on them, among many others. She was a help often, he had to admit, but more often than not, Frank was distracted by her presence, Joe fought with her, and she ended up potentially being hurt or stressed. Joe sighed again. _I guess she must really love my brother to put herself through all this_, he thought. Still, he really, really, wished she wouldn't get involved.

Sitting down next to her, he put an arm around her slim shoulders. "Callie? Are you okay? What's the matter? Why did you need to talk to me? Why are you so upset?"

She met his eyes, slowly. "I'm sorry Joe. For everything. For misjudging Iola, for doubting your sincerity, for Frank, and for Vanessa." She wiped away the last of her tears. "I know it doesn't matter, now. I know you'll probably never let me forget I cried in front of you, either. I'm so sorry."

Joe was confused. He tried to act like his brother in this situation. Getting up, he walked to the bathroom, got a cup of water, and went through Iola's bag until he found some aspirins. He walked over to Callie and offered them to her. She looked surprised, but then accepted them. "Thank you,' she said softly.

He sat down next to her again and tried to be patient. She really was upset about something. Normally, Joe could handle girls being upset. He'd certainly dated enough to know what women generally liked and disliked. However, not only was Callie generally not upset in front of him, but she was Callie--there had always been an inability to read her on his part. He guessed she must feel the same. They sat there in silence for a moment.

Finally, Joe spoke. "Listen, Callie, it's okay to cry. Really. We all do. Even my big, strong older brother occasionally lets it flow. Occasionally. He's like you, though. You're both reserved in your emotions in public."

Callie smiled sadly at that.

"Now, I don't know why you're sorry about Iola or Vanessa or me, for that matter. But we'll be all right. It's our problem and we'll handle it. Okay? I appreciate your concern, but with the case, Frank being in the hospital, and the fact that my dad's flying in later, things are a bit hectic. Things will be okay," he added again.

Callie stood up shakily, and Joe stood next to her to steady her. Something serious was bothering her, and he braced himself for whatever it was, because his instinct told him it was not good.

"What is it?' he said at last. "You might as well tell me now."

"Joe, I… I really messed something up. You have to believe I had the right intentions, but now I think there's some real danger from it, and Vanessa might be in a lot of trouble."

"Vanessa? What does she have to do with this?"

Callie turned to him, and Joe recognized the guilt in her eyes. He had seen it in his own eyes a million times before, recalling the horror of Iola's initial disappearance. Joe knew whatever Callie would come up with, it would be bad. He felt his heart beat faster, but tried to be calm. He was struggling there, though.

"Yes?"

"You know the case we're working on?"

"Mmm Hmm," Joe bit his lip.

"Well, um, I think Vanessa is involved."

"What?" Joe just lost his last bit of patience. "How? What are you talking about?" He felt his hands clenched into fists.

"I… well, a week or two ago, you know, you and Vanessa were having problems, with Iola and all, and..."

"Get to the point!" he snapped at her.

Callie looked afraid, and Joe didn't care, for the first time. If Callie was responsible for getting Vanessa hurt or in danger…. He couldn't fathom what he'd do.

"Joe, I didn't mean any harm. I honest to God didn't. When I saw that Vanessa was hurting, I told her maybe she should look for a new man, as a distraction."

"You did WHAT?" Joe couldn't believe this.

"B… but, I knew that she'd never do it, and I didn't want her to, really. So…" she continued, choking back a sob, "I told her that maybe for fun she should answer one of those "Prince Charming" ads."

Joe felt his face drain of color.

"And… and well, I never thought she'd get called back, I really didn't. I mean, what were the chances? So I didn't think too much about it. B… But…"

"But WHAT?" Joe yelled at her.

Callie felt tears start to form again but tried to hold them back. She deserved whatever Joe was about to do or say. "But I called her all yesterday and her answering machine said she went on a trip. And, you know how Vanessa is about not missing school. So I have a feeling that…"

"Oh my God!!" Joe yelled. "How could you, Callie?! Where is she? We need to find her, now!"

"I know. I was afraid to tell Frank about the latest development…"

"Wait! Frank knew about this?!" This was getting worse and worse.

"Y... Yes…" she stuttered. "But not about Vanessa not being home. He told me nothing would happen, and I mean, logically he's right, so we decided not to tell you. But now…"

Callie looked at Joe and was shocked by the pure emotion and anger she saw reflected in his eyes. She was speechless.

He turned to her. "Callie Shaw, this is a new low, even for you. I thought you were different, but now I see you're just the same person I always thought you were."

Callie started shaking. Joe was seething. "I'm sorry," she managed.

"Sorry? Sorry? Do you think 'sorry' is gonna cut it if something happens to Vanessa? Could you live with yourself, Callie? Because it would be all your fault."

Callie started crying. "I… know."

"Well, good! That's the first thing you've ever said right. Don't count on seeing me again, and, if I have anything to do with it, Frank will see you for the person you really are, too. DAMNIT!" He punched the wall, hard. Callie jumped.

"Thanks for nothing. I'm going to get my dad now, and then I'll be at the hospital trying to solve this case which I HAVE TO at this point. Stay here with Iola. Better yet, leave. Go somewhere and don't come back!" Joe glared at her.

Callie, trembling badly, ran out of the room, grabbing her purse on the way out.

Joe stared after her. Part of him knew that he didn't mean a lot of the things he had said, but that part was way deep down, at this point. Right now, he wasn't thinking of Callie Shaw. He was thinking of Vanessa Bender. And each second was counting and ticking away as he headed out the door.


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks to Missme113 and Polaris for your latest reviews. I think that my fan base has waned… Nonetheless, if you ARE reading, hope you like it.

Classified Secrets

Chapter 14

Fenton Hardy was apprehensive as he headed up the elevator with his youngest son to Frank's room in the hospital. When Joe had picked him up at the airport, he looked like he had been ready to snap. It took quite a few minutes of Fenton trying to calm him before he spilled the whole story to him, up to and including the latest development with Vanessa Bender. Fenton always considered himself to be a reasonable and level-headed person, and he wasn't so sure that either Joe or Callie Shaw were correct in their suspicions about Vanessa. He, personally, thought that the entire case that his sons were working on was a bit of a stretch; however, he realized that they may, in fact, be onto something, and it was up to him to help them out. Besides, his own case was becoming unbearable. Each day, it seemed, he was watching terrorist attacks and innocent people die all over the world, and neither he nor the top officials and investigators in the world could seem to crack the case. He had decided to help his sons because he needed a break—something to concentrate on that was different. Maybe that brief overlap in time would help him to gain some new insights into his own case, and help to avert yet another disaster.

As the elevator stopped at Frank's floor, both Joe and Fenton stepped out. Fenton grabbed his son's arm.

"Now, Joseph, I don't think it's a wise idea to mention the argument that you had with Callie to Frank right now. It would be an extra stress that he wouldn't need."

Joe clenched his fists, but tried to control himself. Despite the long ride to and from the airport, he was still angry about the whole situation, and growing increasingly worried about Vanessa's potential involvement. He couldn't believe what Callie had done to him.

"Whatever," he mumbled to his father.

Fenton held him back again, and turned Joe around, so that he had to meet his eyes. "No, Joe, it's not 'whatever.' This is your brother's health we're talking about here, and I won't stand by and let you compromise it."

Now Joe's temper began to get the best of him. "Well, you know what, Dad? What about Vanessa's health? What about the fact that Frank knew all about Callie's idea in the first place, and never told me? Huh? Maybe someone should lay it on the line for Frank and let him know not only what Callie is like, but what brothers are supposed to be for. You know—loyalty, HONESTY, things like that."

"Calm down!" Fenton said to his son, in a quiet, but firm, voice. "Frank is your brother," he continued evenly, "and you have absolutely nothing to say about him not being the best older brother you could possibly ask for. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe he didn't. But no matter what he did, I am quite certain he used his best judgment for you. Joe, you almost lost Frank two days ago. Think about that. Is it worth it to get mad at him? Because if he had been hurt just a bit more, you'd be thinking very different thoughts right now. Leave it alone."

Joe swallowed the lump in his throat. His father was right. He was still mad, more so at Callie than Frank, but Frank would always be his brother and his best friend. It didn't mean, though, Joe had to think, that when Frank was feeling better, he wouldn't let him have it about Callie and being honest.

"All right, Dad. Let's go," he said at last.

"Thank you, Joe," Fenton told his son, and putting an arm around his shoulders, they headed for Frank's room.

When they arrived, Joe found his brother sleeping. He was still amazed at how pale Frank looked, and a thousand thoughts floated through his mind at once. Frank should be home right now. He had less than a month of school left, the prom was next week, and baseball season was finishing up. Frank should be enjoying what was left of high school, not laying here in a hospital bed. Again, Joe was filled with feelings of guilt and his personal responsibility in having Frank end up here. He looked at the floor.

Fenton, meanwhile, went to Frank's bedside and kissed the top of his head. He hated to see his sons, either of them, in any pain, or being hurt as a result of an investigation. There were times that he regretted having his sons follow in his footsteps, although he always had complete faith in their abilities. Still, to see your own flesh and blood hurting… it was a sight he could never get used to.

Minutes later, Frank stirred slowly. Opening his eyes, he immediately saw Joe, and was surprised to find his father there as well. The last thing he remembered was talking to Callie before he had drifted off to sleep.

"Hey, Dad. What are you doing here?" Frank sat up determinedly, curious to find his family there.

Fenton smiled. "Well, son, I heard you ran into some difficulties down here, so I thought I'd check on you. I just can't leave you alone, can I?"

Frank saw his father's smile, but he also saw the concern in his eyes as well. "Dad, I'm okay, really. I just have to take it easy for a while. Besides, the doctor wanted to keep me for observation, but I convinced him to sign me out today. How's your case going?"

"Frank, my case is unfortunately not going well at all. Joe called me and told me about your case, so I thought I'd get a fresh perspective and come here and try to help you out. I understand that you have some of these "Prince Charming" ads back at the hotel. Joe and I can run and get them, and then we'll come back here and discuss them."

"No way!" Frank objected. Joe and Fenton looked at him, surprised. "Look, we need to get to the bottom of this, and I'm not going to sit around here all day while this guy, whomever he is, is plotting his next high school target. No one else needs to die."

"No one else WILL die," Joe said, quiet but determined.

Frank looked at his brother. "Is something bothering you?" he asked him.

Frank caught the look that his father shot at Joe. "

"What's going on?" Frank asked, feeling an unsettling rush in his stomach.

Joe stared at Frank. Slowly, but evenly, he stated, "Nothing. Let's just say this case is personally affecting me at this point. You never know, Frank. Someone who you care about could be killed by this guy. That can't happen."

Frank, thinking that Joe was referring to him, responded, "I know, Joe. It's okay."

Joe met Frank's eyes. "It has to be."

Frank was puzzled, but said to his father, "Dad, why don't you and Joe go to the lobby and pick up today's paper? I already convinced the doctor to let me go, as long as I promised to get checkups when we get home and to try and take it easy. " Frank smiled. "I said I'd TRY. Anyway, I'll get changed, and you can come and get me in a few minutes."

Joe wasn't crazy about the idea, but he followed his father out anyway. Frank was still way too weak to be let out, and Joe knew that it was a bad idea. There was no way Frank could keep up with him at this point, and he honestly didn't want him to. However, he knew that once Frank made up his mind, it would be difficult to stop him. Joe had no choice but to give in.

Fifteen minutes later, Fenton and Joe returned, and found Frank dressed and ready to go. Again, Joe got a bad feeling about it. Frank's shirt was un-tucked, totally uncharacteristic for him, but necessary now. Joe could just make out heavy bandaging around Frank's waist, and he saw that Frank's breathing was more ragged than it should be. Frank also had a huge brace around his right knee, preventing him from moving his leg. He was pale, and had dark circles under his eyes. Joe hated, hated seeing him this way.

Fenton didn't like it, either. He spoke hesitantly. "Frank, are you sure…."

"Yes!" Frank cut him off, obviously not wanting to get into a confrontation.

"Okay, then," Fenton replied stiffly. "I'll pull up the car. Joe, get your brother's crutches, and I'm sure he'll need a wheelchair to get downstairs. I'll meet you in a few minutes. Here- look at today's paper while you have time." With those words, he left.

Left alone with his brother, Joe didn't speak for a minute. A nurse came in and dropped off the wheelchair. Joe refused her offer to help Frank, saying that he'd take care of it.

"Let's go," Frank said quietly.

Joe bit back his retort. Frank was being ridiculous, jeopardizing his own health for no reason. Still, Joe decided not to be argumentative—at least, not yet. "Okay, big brother," he said. "Let me help."

Joe came around to Frank's side, and gently put an arm around his waist to help him up. He noticed immediately that Frank gasped for air, trying to be quiet, and instinctively reached for his right side. Joe tried to ignore it. He helped Frank into the wheelchair .

"Do you want to see today's paper? We may as well look at it while we're waiting for your nurse to come and take you down."

Frank nodded, and whispered, "Open it up."

Joe noticed that Frank's hands were trembling, and that he was trying to control his breathing. He had enough. "Frank! No way! Just no way!! You're in no shape to get out of here. Maybe, MAYBE in few days, they should think about letting you go. You were shot and had an operation. You lost a lot of blood, and … "

"Joe!" Frank retorted. He looked up at Joe with glassy eyes, but with eyes that were determined. "I'll take that chance, okay? I'll have plenty of time to rest when this case is over. Right now, we can't afford to not do anything."

"I can handle it alone!" Joe argued back.

"Yeah, just like I could."

Joe froze. "You blame me for this, don't you?" he asked Frank, stunned.

"What?! No, of course not. All I'm saying is that we've got a lot on the line right now and, let's face it, we're not as good alone as we are together." He paused, and then weakly added, "I need you to help me, Joe, not to fight me. Please."

Joe reached down for the paper, fighting the feeling of dread that was beginning to overwhelm him. Not only had he managed to convince himself that Vanessa was definitely in danger, but he had a bad feeling about his brother's health as well. "All right, Frank. I don't like it, and you better tell me if you're too tired or too weak or in any pain. Don't be macho."

Frank laughed softly at that. "Look who's talking!"

"Just do it!"

"Okay, okay. Now show me the paper."

The brothers flipped to the Classifieds section and, sure enough, found today's ad. Again, this one was slightly different from the rest, but remained the same in many aspects. They stared at the ad together.

_"SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming is looking for his FINAL, real princess!!_

_This is it, ladies!!_

_520 flowers surrounding you_

_12 times of 12 you set off fireworks in my heart_

_Let's have a parade, for you'll light up my life!_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella_?"

"This still doesn't make any sense!" Joe sighed, angrily. "We need to get answers, and all we get is a dead end!"

Frank reached over and gave his brother a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "I think we need to see what Dad has to say about this. We also need to look at a bunch of these things together. It's strange. Some parts are always the same, and other parts change daily or weekly. I mean, clearly, that's got to mean something."

"Yeah, but what?"

"Well, little brother," Frank answered him back. "That is exactly what we're going to find out as soon as we get back to the hotel."

Joe met Frank's eyes, and thought of Vanessa. "We most certainly will, Frank. There's no option here."

With those words, the nurse entered, and Frank and Joe left the hospital, eager to break this case at last.


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you to those who reviewed. I very much appreciated it. Things here are still quite hectic… as soon as they settle down, I am eagerly looking forward to reading the wonderful stories out there, catching up, and reviewing!!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 15

Vanessa Bender finally calmed down a bit when she felt the limo pull to a stop. Trembling, she realized that she'd have to hold herself together if she was going to have any chance at all of making some sense out of what was happening to her. As terrified as she was to leave the limo, she was almost as terrified to stay in it. One thing was certain, however. No matter how she had arrived here, her predicament was not good.

At last, she saw the door to the limo slide open and the smiling chauffeur open it. With hesitation, Vanessa allowed herself to be let out of the door. She wanted to run, to scream, to do anything to get out of there. However, as she looked around, reality set in; she had nowhere to go. She was literally trapped.

"Miss? Aren't you forgetting something?" The sound of the driver's voice brought Vanessa back to reality.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Vanessa managed, "W… What?"

"Well, your prince has left you a little package. Surely, you wouldn't want to disappoint him now, would you, by forgetting it?"

Vanessa was utterly confused. It took her a few moments to realize that he meant the dress, or costume, whatever you'd call it. Vanessa involuntarily shuddered. She'd been trying to block out any thoughts of having to wear that, or the implications that wearing it intrinsically brought with it. Suddenly, she realized that if she was going to be able to escape eventually, she had to arm herself with as much knowledge as she could.

Taking a deep breath, she bravely inquired, "Listen. Can you please tell me where we are? Please? This is too much!"

Again smiling, the driver stated, "No, Miss Vanessa. As I told you, all inquiries into location are being kept a secret as the Prince's discretion."

Vanessa felt her temper rise. Who was this guy? "I said to tell me!"

The driver looked surprised. "Ah, you ARE feisty! I don't know how the Prince would like that. Remember, civility, manners, and class are the key elements to being a Princess. And I have a feeling YOU will be the FINAL one." He chuckled at some unknown meaning in his own words.

Vanessa had just about enough. "Look, mister, I don't know who you are, but I'm being kidnapped here. If you let me go now, I swear I won't say anything. No one will get any details." At that moment, she meant those words, too.

The driver just laughed. "Kidnapped? My dear, YOU chose to come. This was your desire. Remember- the Prince specializes in areas of the heart- "special chambers of the heart" as he refers to them."

"Who is this guy? He's not a real Prince, right? He can't be!" Vanessa was beginning to get nervous again.

"He is, my dear, in charge of a Kingdom of sorts. You'll soon find out."

Vanessa fought back tears. She desperately wanted to fight this guy, to try any means to escape. The other part of her wanted to be protected, and she wished badly that Joe was there to help her. He'd protect her, somehow. At least, he would have, not too long ago.

"Well…" Vanessa choked out, "If you're going to kill me, at least tell me. Please don't hurt me." Never in her life had Vanessa uttered such simple words with such powerful meaning. Shaking, she backed up against the car.

Then, the strangest thing happened. The driver looked at Vanessa's fear-filled face and started laughing, in a strange, maniacal sort of way. Vanessa was terrified. He kept laughing, even wiping the tears from his eyes, as he struggled to keep his composure. Vanessa was shocked. What was going on here?

After a few moments, he regained some semblance of control, and would have seemed normal except for that constant, unearthly grin of his. Speaking evenly, he surmised, "Miss Vanessa, you're not going to be killed, maimed, or kidnapped. You can go home in three days, isn't that what the Prince told you? And when you get back, life, as we say, shall seem more precious than ever to you."

Vanessa, confused and stunned, only listened.

"You see, you are the FINAL Princess, the one who shall be remembered through the ages."

Vanessa managed to stutter, "W… wait. There have been others? I thought he was looking for one girl. I…"

"Oh, sure, there have been others, but our goals have been achieved. Understand, Miss Vanessa, that it is only the final princess who counts—the Cinderella, if you will. All others are belles of the ball- but you- you own the glass slipper. You see, Cinderella was an ordinary girl for most of her life, and then she was called. She was chosen, for a very special purpose. No one could stop her destiny. And sometimes, her evil step-sisters were necessary to make Cinderella's ultimate purpose even more shining and clear. Here, though- there is no magic wand and wishes to come true, no pumpkins turned into coaches, no fairy godmothers to guide and to protect. You see, in our magic kingdom, we made the magic; we laid the plans; we have set the stage for the final ball, and the creation of a new – class--so we say. And so, while preparations for the final ball are being made, the ball that will catch the world's attention, you, Miss, will be a friendly reminder to your own home that they could have prevented the midnight hour if only they had been watching the clock tick."

Vanessa tried to make sense of the words, but they came out jumbled. Was she alone? Was she with others? Was this innocent fun, or someone's sick idea of entertainment with deadly consequences? She felt dizzy.

"Come now," he said, contentedly, "For it is time to meet your Prince."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooo

Callie Shaw returned to back to her hotel room a few hours later. She was exhausted, upset, and feeling terribly guilty about what had transpired. Her instinct had been to run; and, in the past, she would have. She had learned, though, from the last case involving Lazarus, that sometimes, honesty and facing your problems was the only thing to do. Just as she had wanted terribly to tell Frank about what was happening in that case, she wanted to talk to him now. She missed him, a lot. However, she knew that Frank was still weak from his ordeal, and that she couldn't put undue pressure on him. Besides, what would she say? Joe had been right, and the last thing she wanted to do was to create tension between the two brothers. As she opened the door of her room, she held back tears. _Maybe it would be easier if I __was__ out of the picture. Maybe Frank is better off without me. Maybe so is Iola, and Vanessa, and… well, Joe went without saying. _Fighting back these thoughts, Callie entered the room, just wanting to sleep away her problems.

That, however, was not to be. As soon as she walked through the door, Iola jumped up and threw her arms around Callie. "WHERE have you been? I've been so worried about you! I heard a little bit of the fight that you had with Joe. I thought you ran away! Are you okay? Are…"

"IOLA!" Callie countered. "Shh! I'm fine. Really. I... I'm just tired and upset. Don't worry about me. You should be with Joe right now. He probably needs you."

Iola looked with concern at her friend. "No, he doesn't. He's with his dad and Frank at the hospital Then, I think, they're either staying there or coming back here later. I think it's a family thing to work on the case."

Callie smiled sadly. "Yeah, well, it's an important case." She looked at Iola, and decided to tell her the truth, and why she was concerned about Vanessa. "Iola? Do you have a few minutes? Because there's something I want to tell you."

Iola nodded. "Of course!"

With that agreement, Callie launched into her story, telling Iola everything, up to her argument with Joe. She concluded with, "And so, I'm worried about Vanessa. Joe hates me. I want to help, but I can't. That's it."

Iola took all of this in silence. She was concerned, too. Iola was caught between wanting to help and being scared to death to get involved. With a sigh, Iola thought about how, if given the opportunity, even though she was scared, she probably would try to help Vanessa if she honestly thought that she could make a difference. The truth was, though, that she had been so hesitant in getting involved in the first place that she really hadn't paid any attention to the case. Now, she regretted that decision.

Iola looked at Callie. Rarely had she ever seen her friend so dejected.

"Cal? You know this is kind of awkward for me. I know you think that I'd try not to help Vanessa. She is my boyfriend's girlfriend." Iola grinned. "That sounds ridiculous, huh?"

Callie laughed weakly. It was kind of funny.

"But I WOULD. She helped me out, and never asked questions. I just really don't know what to do. Frank, Joe, and their dad are the experts. I'm sure they'll crack the case. And besides, Vanessa might be fine after all- you're kind of assuming a lot."

Callie listened quietly. This was her best friend from a long time ago, the caring, funny, and practical person she knew had taken Joe's heart. She couldn't fathom what Iola must be going through even uttering these words. She tried to comfort her. "Thanks, Iola. I guess you're right. Things do tend to work themselves out."

"I have an idea!"

Callie looked up, and brushed her long blonde hair back behind her ears with her fingers. This had to be good.

"Let's have some fun!"

"What?!" Callie couldn't believe it. "Iola, Vanessa may be hurt. Joe may possibly kill me. My boyfriend needs me to help him now. How can I have fun?!"

"Because! What else can we do? You'll be more of a help to everyone if you're well- rested and relaxed. Maybe fun will clear your mind for new ideas. And don't worry about Joe- He'll get over it."

"Ummmm…. Iola? You don't know my relationship with Joe."

"Callie! I'm serious."

Callie flopped back on the bed, her head spinning. She couldn't believe this. SLEEP. That was her idea of fun right now. What did Iola have in mind? Clubbing? Going to the beach? Shopping? Somehow, all of these 'normal' activities seemed not only abnormal, but somehow morally wrong. Still, she looked at Iola's eager face, and knew Iola was only trying to help. She also knew that Iola's only tangible way of helping anything right now was to try and make her happy. Callie didn't have the heart to say no, though she knew her mind would be far away.

"Okay," she replied at last. "As long as we're back not too late. When the boys get here, I want to be here, even if it's just to lend Frank moral support. I'll stay out of Joe's way."

"All right!" Iola exclaimed, her face lighting up. "Have you ever been to Epcot Center? I hear it's great!"

Callie couldn't believe this. "Um, no, but…"

"Then let's go!" Iola cried joyfully. "Come on! What else could make you happier than the happiest place on earth?"

"Well…."

"Come on!" She grabbed Callie's purse and sunglasses from their dresser. "We'll have fun, and we won't tell Frank and Joe."

"Shouldn't we- leave a note or something?"

"Nope! Girl's day!"

Callie exhaled slowly, feeling her headache slowly return with a vengeance. "I really do want to be back when they get back, in case they need me."

"Oh, Callie!" Iola said, exasperated. "Let's go! We'll be back. What could go wrong?!" She bounded out the door.

Callie followed slowly, thinking of Vanessa, and of Frank. "Never ask that," she muttered under her breath.


	16. Chapter 16

_Thank you all for your reviews, especially since I have been so remiss with my reviews on your stories. Just give me a bit of time—promise I'll get there!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 16

Frank, Joe, and Fenton Hardy returned to the hotel where they were staying less than 45 minutes later. As they entered their room, Joe helped his brother onto the bed. Frank looked exhausted, but he was ready to try and tackle the case. Joe scooped up a handful of recent newspapers to start looking through that he had been collecting. Fenton excused himself for a few minutes to grab some sodas for himself and his sons from a vending machine down the hall. Joe was about to set everything up when Frank suddenly spoke up.

"Joe?"

Joe looked at his brother quizzically. "Yeah? Are you okay?"

Frank smiled weakly. "Well, yeah. All things considered."

"Maybe you should get some rest first. Dad and I can go through these. We'll wake you if we need your expertise. Besides, I'm sure I can figure out anything you can."

Frank just shook his head and said dryly, "Yeah, of course you can."

"ANYWAY," Joe interjected, "Did you want something? Dad'll be right back."

"Actually, yes. Can you do me a favor? Can you get Callie from next door? I just want to see her and tell her I'm back, and that we're working on this."

Joe froze, the thought of seeing Callie angering him again. "No!"

Frank looked surprised. "What? Why not? What's the matter?"

Joe tried to catch himself. "I just meant that she's… uh… sleeping."

Now Frank looked suspicious and Joe cringed inwardly, trying to figure out a way of this. Keeping a step ahead of Frank, even when he was injured, wasn't easy.

"Really, Joe?" Frank said sarcastically. "And how would you know that? We just got here."

"Well…" Joe paused. "I mean, before I went to get you, Iola and me and Callie talked and she was really tired." Joe tried to sound as sincere as possible. It was the truth, after all. Well, sort of.

"You spoke with Callie? Why didn't you tell me? She's okay, isn't she?" Joe sensed the disbelief in his brother's voice, but he also noted concern as well. Joe tried not to get angry, but the old feelings he had kept at bay about Callie were coming back. His father's words echoed in his head. "_I don't think you should tell Frank about your fight with Callie." _Still, Joe wanted to tell Frank, and to confront him about his part in this as well.

His hesitation made Frank worried. He repeated his question. "Joe? Is Callie okay?"

"Yeah. She's okay." Joe couldn't help but to add, "SHE'S always okay."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Frank raised his voice. Joe could tell it was draining his brother to have this argument, but he felt it had gone too far at this point not to continue.

"Look, Frank, I don't think you should see Callie anymore. You have no idea who she really is."

Frank looked utterly confused. "WHAT?! I thought you two were getting along." Frank sat up quickly, and grabbed his side again. Joe was worried, but anger was blinding him.

"Get rid of her, Frank. She's … there're no words for her."

Frank's breathing grew heavier, and he felt a little light-headed. Still, he managed, "WHAT are you talking about? Look, Joe. Right now, I don't even want to know. I don't have the strength for this argument. I don't feel well. We need to focus on the case. Try to be thoughtful for once in your life and respect the fact that Callie is my girlfriend, and you're not going to change that. I'll give you plenty of reasons why-- Later."

With those words, Frank laid back down on the bed, breathing deeply, trying to get his bearings. However, Joe was preventing any semblance of rest for him.

"What about you?!"

Frank lifted one eye open. He closed it again. After counting slowly to ten mentally, he opened both eyes and looked at his brother, who was visibly angry. Of all times to start an argument, this was not a good one.

Calmly, he said to his brother, "I don't know, Joe. What about me? Because I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. Since you obviously have some sort of problem with me, you might as well tell me now, because you're just going to blow up about it." Frank knew Joe well enough to let him speak. Whatever was bothering him he wanted to tell Frank about, so, ignoring his own confusion and discomfort, he decided to be rational and to just hear Joe out. He simply didn't have the will or the strength to argue back.

"Why didn't you tell me about Vanessa?!" Joe said angrily.

"What?!" Frank responded, flustered.

"Don't pretend not to know! Callie told her to answer one of those ads. Now, she may be in danger all because of your stupid girlfriend! What about trust? I can't believe you'd protect Callie instead of telling me the truth!" Joe immediately felt better for saying what was on his mind.

The feeling didn't last.

Frank sat up again, and Joe saw the pained look in his brother's eyes. He also saw something he wasn't expecting, though—he saw anger.

"Did you have a fight with Callie? Because if you did, I'd like to know about it." Frank said the words calmly, but Joe sensed at once that there was a nasty undertone to them.

"You didn't answer my question!" Joe snapped back.

"You didn't answer MINE!!" Frank yelled. Joe stopped. Frank NEVER yelled.

"Yeah," Joe replied, more calmly than before. "I did."

"Where is she?" Joe noticed Frank was working himself up, and he didn't look good.

"Calm down," Joe told him.

"Me?! You've got to be kidding." Frank's breathing was more ragged, and now Joe regretted saying anything. Suddenly, it wasn't important.

"Frank…" Joe made a motion towards his brother, who stood up facing him, leaning heavily on one crutch that he had put against the dresser.

"You know what, Joe? Let me tell you a few things." Frank's eyes were glassy, but his gaze was steady.

"Sit down, Frank, come on." Now Joe was getting really worried.

"Shut up!" Frank seethed. Joe's mouth dropped open. Never in his whole life had Frank ever intentionally tried to silence him. He was stunned.

"Okay, little brother, you want to know all about Vanessa? Okay. First, let's face the obvious fact. Callie wouldn't have said anything to her if you had treated Vanessa the way you should have. I mean, you dump her- fast- for Iola. _That's fair_," he added, sarcastically.

"Now wait…" Joe began, but was cut off instantly.

"Second, Callie was trying to help her. Were there better ways of doing it? I'm sure. I was like you- I told her it was a bad idea. She MEANT WELL, Joe. Doesn't that count for anything?!"

"No!" Joe managed.

"No? Okay. How about this, then. Callie told me to TELL you, Joe. She felt really bad, even before we knew what this case was about. You know why you didn't know? Because I didn't tell you. Callie had nothing to do with that. So I guess you can hate me now."

Frank looked shaky. Joe wanted this to stop.

"That's not what I meant…"

"Really? Because according to you, what people MEAN doesn't really matter!"

Frank tried to calm down. His stomach felt upset, and he could see little dots in front of his eyes. He felt his legs begin to give out, so he pushed himself back and landed on the bed.

Joe ran to his side. "Frank? Frank, I'm sorry." Joe felt his hart beat faster. 'Can I help? What can I do?"

Frank, very pale, motioned to Joe. "Get me a garbage can," he croaked.

Joe was confused for an instant, but ran to get one from the bathroom. "Here."

"Now go away."

"What?"

"Now!"

Joe went into the hall. Frank's words were still reeling in his mind. On one hand, he DID blame himself for leaving Vanessa alone. He knew that, and the guilt was a difficult thing to try and force down. On the other hand, he didn't quite believe Frank. He couldn't fathom that Frank had chosen not to tell him about Vanessa. Despite any of Frank's words, Joe was still seething about Callie Shaw. It was her fault; it had to be. Frank wouldn't betray him like that. Above all, Joe regretted getting Frank so upset. His gnawing suspicion that Frank was worse off than he was letting on was becoming apparently clear, and Joe prayed it wouldn't get worse.

Their father was still not back. Joe couldn't stand it. After about three minutes, he returned to the room. He saw immediately that Frank had gotten sick. He looked a little better now, but the strain of everything was still showing on his face. Without saying a word, Joe grabbed the can and threw it in the bathroom. He felt horrible.

He gave Frank a few minutes. Finally, Frank looked up at him from the bed where he was again lying. "Joe," he said softly, more calmly than before. "I'm sure Vanessa is okay. Please, next time get mad at me, not at Callie, okay?"

Joe went to say something, to tell him it WAS Callie's fault, but Frank held up his hand. "Joe, I never say things like this, but I'm telling you now. LISTEN to me. I'll support you in whatever you do, even if I disagree with you. You have done some stupid things in your life, and I've never abandoned you. I'm not perfect either, but you constantly get on my case about Callie. I could do the most idiotic thing at school and embarrass you to no end, and what would you say to me at home? That Callie probably made me do it. It's not fair."

"I…" Joe tried to cut in, but stopped when he saw how serious Frank was.

"And one more thing. You have to learn to think before you act, at least a little. I have no idea what you said to Callie and, believe it or not, she most likely wouldn't tell me. I don't even really want to know. But I'm going to tell you something totally uncharacteristic of me, okay? You probably know it, but I'm telling you anyway so you can HEAR me for once. Joe, I LOVE Callie. I'm not all over her in public, and I'm not as emotional as you are. Maybe I should be. But I really, truly, LOVE her. We're young- we're going to different colleges, and I have no idea what the future holds. Right now, though, I cannot imagine my life without her. And just as I love you, I wouldn't let anyone speak ill of you. I'd do anything to protect you, and I'd never want to see you hurt. You need to understand that I feel the same way about her. And it really—bothers me—when you can't see that. Don't make me choose sides, Joe. You're my brother, and you always will be, and I guess if push came to shove, I'd have to choose you. But in the process, I'd lose my best friend, and my first love. So please. For me. Just—stop." Frank ended his statement emphatically, feeling not only emotionally, but physically, depleted.

Joe didn't know what to say. Frank never expressed his feelings like this. In all the years he'd overheard Frank and Callie talking, he had never once heard Frank actually tell him how he felt about Callie. That was BIG for him, and Joe recognized that. It was just so different from his own actions. Joe told everyone how much he loved Vanessa and Iola, at different periods in his life. He was expressive and emotional and had heard "get a room!" more times than he cared to remember from some of his friends when he was kissing his girlfriends in the hallway.

Joe had no idea what to say. He was trying to reconcile his own feelings about Callie with what Frank just said, and he was having a really hard time doing it.

He looked at the floor, and mumbled, "Sorry."

_Wow, I have a way with words, _he thought dryly.

Suddenly he looked at Frank, who was beginning to regain a little color. He had almost forgotten to tell him what Callie had said. "Frank- Callie mentioned that Vanessa isn't at home now, and that's why I'm worried." With that, he repeated as much of Callie's story as he could remember.

He watched his brother's expression change. "Hmmm. That's interesting. It is a bit odd."

Frank looked at Joe's worried expression, and said quickly, "But it could still be nothing. Look, Joe, we need to seriously solve this case fast. Let's look at these papers." He paused. "Where on earth is Dad?"

At that moment, the boys heard a loud screeching noise outside the window. Joe rushed to the window, and barely caught the tail end of a truck as it made it's way out of view. He then saw someone run after the truck, waving some sort of paper in his hand.

"Oh no!" Joe gasped out loud. "A truck just sped away. I hope they don't have dad! He just came from that direction!" With those words, Joe ran for the door, hoping to get to his father in time…


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you to those who reviewed. I hope that you all continue to enjoy the story!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 17

Joe ran quickly to the door, opened it up, and went crashing immediately into his father. Sodas went flying as Fenton stumbled back, the wind knocked out of him. Joe, who had run full speed, tripped over his father and landed with a thud, right in the middle of the spilled soda. With an audible groan, he realized that not only were his jeans soaked, but also he'd have a pretty nasty bruise on his left arm from taking a dive. Still, he ignored his own predicament and went quickly to his father, helping him up.

"Dad! Are you okay?! I thought you were kidnapped!"

Fenton stared in disbelief at his younger son for a moment. He then looked down at his new shirt, stained purple because Joe had insisted on a grape soda. He was silent for a moment.

Joe waited expectantly.

Then, his father exploded. "JOSEPH! What on earth are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Has the blonde in your hair finally seeped down and stolen all valuable brain cells?"

Joe's jaw dropped. "Aw, Dad, I'm sorry, but…"

"But what? What are you sorry for? Was it the running like a maniac, or the almost sending me very quickly back down a flight of stairs, or was it that you had insisted on grape soda, which you wanted OPEN and on ice, that doesn't come out?"

"Dad!"

"I'm waiting!"

Joe took a deep breath. "Dad, Frank and I heard a noise from downstairs. A truck was squealing away. You had come from that direction, and you were gone awhile, so we figured that you might be in trouble. Maybe you were kidnapped or something."

"Who on earth would kidnap me?!"

Joe blushed. "I don't know," he sheepishly admitted.

Fenton sighed deeply. He loved Joe, but his son drove him crazy sometimes. "Joe, no one kidnapped me, okay, unless they wanted some soda and thought I looked like the vending man."

"But you were gone so long!"

"Yes, Joe, because normal people like your brother and I accept things like Pepsi or Coke and don't care for gourmet soda. I had to find some."

"Oh. But there was some guy with a paper…"

"Oh, yes. Him. Well, Joe, you see, I was trying to get some papers you didn't have, and the lobby downstairs had some back issues. The guy came to deliver today's papers, albeit a bit late. He asked me if I was looking for some old issues, and I said yes. We started chatting for a few minutes. He then realized he was REALLY late on his next run and had to speed out of there. He left, but forgot his delivery receipt. The lobby owner ran out after him."

Joe tried to fight his embarrassment. "Um, I guess maybe I over-reacted a little. Of course, you see why I was concerned."

Fenton rolled his eyes. "Sure, son. Whatever makes you happy to believe. Well, I guess we better get started. Let's go. I have to change first, though, and, from the looks of it, you should, too!"

With that, he walked into the room, followed closely by Joe.

About fifteen minutes later, both Joe and Fenton were changed, and were sitting on the bed with Frank, the Personals ads spread out in front of them. Since there were many ads and each one was unique, they had decided to start with the most recent of them.

Fenton tried to clear his head. It had been a long few months for him. Although he did care about this case, he was terribly concerned about his own. He kept repeating the Latin motto in his head, "_Praemonitus praemunitus/ Sic semper tyrannis Ad corda,_ which he knew meant, "Be forewarned and forearmed; thus always to tyrants. To the heart." Involuntarily, his mind flashed to the hundreds and hundreds of people who had been killed all over the world, and he felt the queasiness return to his stomach. He had never felt so frustrated by a case, and he was beginning to feel personally responsible for these victims. If only he could work faster….

"Dad? You okay?"

Fenton snapped out of his reverie when he heard Frank's voice. He looked at his eldest son, who looked like he was struggling with his last bit of energy to work on this case. He felt a twang in his heart at once. He shouldn't have let Frank be released from the hospital. He just had a bad feeling about it. Glancing at Joe, he caught the same look of concern on his face. Still, if Frank was going to try, then it was up to him to make it as easy as possible.

"Yes, son. I'm sorry. I was distracted thinking about my own case. I… never mind. I just hope that maybe seeing an entirely new case will give me ideas for my own."

Frank nodded thoughtfully. "Well, there are some similarities."

Fenton looked up.

"Yeah," Joe cut in. "In our case, the maniac leaves behind those Cinderella slipper insignias, and in yours there's that Latin thingy."

Fenton excused Joe's vocabulary mentally, but he had to admit his sons had a point. He began to feel the old excitement return about working on cases. Already, he began to feel better about the potential for new ideas to form.

"That's true, Joe. Hmmm."

"Dad," Frank interjected, "I know you're still working on the case and all, but what was that inscription ON, anyway? Can you tell us? Maybe we can help you. I know it's classified, but..."

Fenton looked at Frank with consideration. "Well, son, we think it's… a heart, if you can believe that. It's not the typical Valentine's Day candy heart shape, but more like what an actual heart looks like. Whomever these terrorists are, they clearly want to leave a trail, to claim responsibility. They're clever, though. Do you know what a nuisance it was to figure even that clue out? A heart is an odd shape. It's got different passages and chambers and shapes. That took a while."

"Oh. Well, maybe after we look into this case, we can help you out," Frank replied earnestly. Fenton smiled gently at his son. The last thing Frank needed was another case. He'd be lucky to get through this one with his health in tact. Quickly, he reached over and rubbed his son's hair affectionately. "Maybe," he replied.

Joe was getting anxious. "Dad, um, we can try to help you, but I'd really like to start on this one, okay? Just because—well, you know—Vanessa and all."

"Okay, son. I know. Let's go." He gave Joe a reassuring smile, and together, all three took a look at the most recent ads.

**Ad #1**

_"SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming still seeking his Princess._

_Today, you must have the following qualities:_

_507 ways of smiling_

_9 times of 12 you'll say you love me_

_Love Lucky Charms_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella?"_

**Ad #2**

_"SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming still seeking his Princess._

_Today, you must have the following qualities:_

_509 ways you like to dance_

_10 times of 12 you'll treat me to surprises_

_Love big pepperoni pies_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella?"_

**Ad #3**

_"SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming has not yet found his Princess!_

_Tell me that someone fits my requests:_

_511 red roses in your dream garden_

_11 times of 12 you give smiles for no reason_

_Love French fries and English muffins?_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella?"_

**Ad #4**

_"SWM seeking SF._

_Prince Charming is looking for his FINAL, real princess!!_

_This is it, ladies!!_

_520 flowers surrounding you_

_12 times of 12 you set off fireworks in my heart_

_Let's have a parade, for you'll light up my life!_

_Believe in secret chambers of the heart._

_Are you my Cinderella_?"

There were several more ads prior to this, but the thee detectives decided to focus on these in particular because they had run the longest and with the most repetition, and they were the most recent.

Joe was getting agitated, as he thought of the possibility of Vanessa being associated with any of this. "I don't get it! This makes no sense!" he exclaimed warily.

Fenton attempted to calm him. "Joe, you're a good detective, and you know as well as I do that cases are like puzzles, and the challenge is getting the pieces to fit. You're actually lucky in this instance. Your man- or woman- certainly left a substantial amount of that puzzle. We just have to find out how they go together. So, what's the best way to solve a puzzle?

Frank perked up. "I do it from the outside in. You know, do the border, the solid part, first. Then, I look for the more complicated parts."

"Yes! Exactly!"

"What?!" Frank and Joe asked simultaneously.

"Do what Frank says. Look at the pieces that are easy first. What do all four of these ads have in common?

The boys scrutinized each ad.

"Well," Joe said finally, "There are a few things. Each one appears to contain a similar format, although the information changes. You have that 'SWM seeking SF' which I assume is 'single white male seeking single female.' Then, you always have the repetition of 'Prince Charming' and 'Cinderella' and that 'secret chambers of the heart thing.' "

"All that does look consistent."

Fenton was trying to work this out, although it was puzzling him, too. "Boys, where did the attacks take place, and in what order, in the high schools? We may have to go back to go forward."

Frank furrowed his forehead in thought. "Joe, wasn't it Texas, North Dakota, California, and then New York and Florida?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Hmmm." Fenton stiffened. "That pattern is obvious, boys. What is it?"

Joe actually got it first. "Oh…" he groaned. "Each sector is in a different part of the U.S., and by going in this manner, the whole U.S. is represented. That was stupid," he sighed. "If I'd have seen that earlier, then we could have predicted the next hit." Joe was angry at himself.

"Don't feel bad, Joe. I didn't see it either," Frank tried to console his brother. Joe just shook his head.

"What else do you know, boys? Come on. Anything."

"We, um, know the names of the high schools," Frank said.

"That doesn't matter," Joe interjected.

"Joe, you never know what matters in a case. Clearly, these are all related."

Joe knew his father was right. He was beginning to get anxious. At last, they had gotten a clue! "All right. Let's see. Texas- Stockton West Maynard; North Dakota- Oakton; California- Music Academy at Los Angeles; New York- Elmwood; Florida- Dayton High School."

They all stared at the list Joe had written. Fenton and Joe were about to throw it away and start in another area when they heard Frank gasp.

"Are you okay?!" Joe asked quickly. Frank's face was drained of color. Still, he covered his head with his hand and groaned. "Oh, Joe. How could we have missed it?"

"Missed what?" Fenton asked, concerned about Frank's appearance. "Are you feeling well, son?"

Frank breathed in deeply. He wasn't feeling well at all, actually, but he was more upset about what he had just discovered. "Dad, I'll be okay. Look! SWM- Stockton West Maynard!"

Joe was shocked. "This … person... has been announcing all along that the cases are related! I can't believe it!"

"There's more," Frank added, weakly.

"What?" Then Joe saw it. "Oh, no. S-O-M-E"

"Day," Frank added. "Someday. The names of the school spell out 'Someday."

Fenton was perplexed, but proud of his sons. "That is EXCELLENT boys. I can't believe you saw that."

"Well, Dad, if you didn't tell us to look there, we wouldn't have," Joe added. Then, in panic, a thought hit him. "Dad! Frank! IF Vanessa is next…"

"That's a very big IF," Fenton reminded his son.

"If she is," he continued, "Then she'd be in Bayport. How would that fit in to the puzzle? Would it? I mean, if it doesn't , then Vanessa is fine." Joe suddenly needed to find this out.

"I don't know," Fenton said. "Someday Bayport. Would that make sense?"

"Not unless someone has a personal grudge against us, and that wouldn't make sense based on this series of incidents," Frank replied quietly.

"Someday Bay? I guess that could be like a symbolic body of water or something," Joe thought out loud.

"Nah- Well, at least, I don't think so."

"Good!" Joe said, relieved. "Then Vanessa has to be fine."

Frank had been quiet. At once, he spoke. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Joe asked, feeling dread return to his stomach.

"Well, unless it's something like Someday 'B' or something like that. Like, for example, that this organization or person will 'someday be' in power or something."

Joe felt sick. That sort of made sense. He began to feel nauseated. He swallowed, hard.

Fenton agreed, and now he was serious. If Vanessa was involved, and Frank's theory was true, then he had to act fast. "You know, Joe, Frank's idea makes sense. It could also be the beginning of a new word. In either case, in the next few minutes, I'm going to make a call to both Bayport High School, and to the Police Department. Joe, I'd keep trying Vanessa. I think I would do that now."

Both Joe and Fenton got up to move. Frank stopped them. "Dad, we've gotten so wrapped up in this that we've forgotten that we didn't even get to the inner pieces of the ads yet. There's probably much more info in the 'interior' of the puzzle. We didn't even look at the hard stuff."

Fenton bit his lip. "Frank, You're absolutely right. I don't think this can wait, though. Why don't you give me and your brother about 20 minutes or so, and then we'll come right back and try to figure the rest of this out. I'll use my cell phone outside."

"Me, too," Joe agreed, and the two were out the door.

Left alone, Frank fought back the steady pain that was getting increasingly worse in his side and tried to breathe evenly. He was ignoring the pain as best he could, but it was getting to be pretty bad. He wanted to take the pain pills he'd been given, but he knew he couldn't adequately concentrate if he took them. Frank was also upset at having missed these clues, these secrets buried in the classified section of the papers, and he couldn't help but to get a bad feeling that even more lay in store.

Fighting frustration and pain, Frank slowly stood up and leaned against his crutch. Since he had to raise his arm to get the crutch under it, each time he used it he felt a slight tearing pain in his right side. Still, he knew he had to get out of the room for a few minutes before Joe and his dad returned.

Limping slowly, each breath an effort, Frank made his way to the door and the hallway. He wanted to see the one person he knew could make him feel better, and the talk about Vanessa and Joe's earlier fight made it seem even more necessary than before. He hadn't wanted to wake her by calling if Joe had honestly told the truth before. So, slowly and weakly, Frank made his way to Callie's room, expecting to see his girlfriend. He knew he could confide in her, and maybe, just maybe, she could help him.

However, when Frank arrived, he knocked repeatedly, discovering no one was there. "That's odd," he muttered, disappointed.

By the time he arrived back at his room, and sat back down on the bed, Frank suddenly realized WHY she wasn't there, and tried to fight back the anger that was now mixed in with pain. "That's right! Joe told me he fought with her, but he didn't tell me what happened." Frank instantly grew worried, but sat down, fighting back the anger. "He'll tell me as soon as he gets back, though!" Frank whispered.

He closed his eyes, fighting the elements working against him, and hoping that this day wouldn't get any worse. He waited.


	18. Chapter 18

_I am soooo sorry for the delay. I will post a chapter a day from now on! Sorry! As always, all of your reviews are very much appreciated!!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 18

Joe Hardy pushed open the door to his room in frustration about fifteen minutes after he had left. He took a quick glance at his brother who was staring at him for some reason and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror and tried to calm himself. Splashing his face with some water, he rubbed his eyes and tried to refocus on the case. Joe had tried calling Vanessa several times to no avail. He tried calling her mother's cell phone, but she hadn't answered, either. Then, worrying deeply, he had called any friends at home who he could think of—Biff, Tony, Phil, Chet, Liz, Jerry—no one had heard from Vanessa. Now, he was fighting the feelings of panic that were beginning to surface.

Joe felt his heart beating faster, and he went to bite his nails, a habit which he had long ago managed to stop. Realizing what he was about to do, he put his hand down and clenched and unclenched his fists. When he had spoken with Chet, Chet had managed to tell him all about baseball and school and everything else that was normal back in Bayport. He had wanted to know how his sister was doing, and Joe had exhaled deeply, realizing that he couldn't answer that question. Where WAS Iola, anyhow? He'd check on her in a little while, but he did think it was strange that she didn't look like she was around. More on his mind, though, was Vanessa. How could he have left her without an explanation? As much as he still blamed Callie for introducing Vanessa to this ridiculous idea, he was mad at himself as well. If Callie was to blame for Vanessa's predicament, Joe had to admit that he was the catalyst for the whole thing.

Joe took out his wallet and looked at a picture of Vanessa taken only a month ago. He swallowed the lump beginning to form in his throat. She was so pretty, so alive and vivacious. He couldn't believe the way he had treated her. She deserved much better. If, God forbid, anything happened to her, Joe didn't think he could deal with it. As horrifically as he had felt after Iola's disappearance, and as badly as he still felt about it, Vanessa's harm would almost be worse, because he could have prevented it, if only he had done the right thing. Those thoughts, along with the idea that any one of his friends could be badly hurt or worse by being exposed somehow to Meningitis at the high school, were becoming unbearable to him, and weighed heavily on his mind.

With a heavy sigh and slightly trembling hands, Joe entered the room, determined now, more than ever, to crack this case and to save Vanessa. What he hadn't expected was to see his brother, more pale than before, sitting on the bed with his arms crossed in a hostile manner, waiting for him to emerge.

"Yes?" Joe asked. He wasn't in the mood for a confrontation. Frank had been fine when he left the room before. "Is there something the matter?"

Frank met his eye. "Yeah. You never answered my question from before."

Joe lifted his hands to the ceiling in a gesture of confusion. "What? I have no idea what you're talking about, and I'm a little preoccupied right now. Vanessa's in danger."

Frank was again trying to be calm, as he sympathized with his brother. However, he was concerned about his own girlfriend, too, and he needed to see her. Frank consciously tried to keep his voice even, although he wanted to strangle his brother. He said, non- antagonistically, "Let me re-phrase that, Joe. Okay. You told me before that you and Callie had a fight. I need to know what you fought about, and what was said. The reason I need to know this is because Callie is not here, and I know her well enough that she would be here knowing I was back. So, I'm a little worried."

_There_, Frank thought. That was more than fair.

Joe couldn't believe his brother. Vanessa was in grave danger, and Frank was worried about Callie?! Joe felt his face get red, and he lashed out at his brother. "Frank! I can't believe you're worried about Callie. She's a big girl, and she can handle herself. I thought you, of all people, would help me with Vanessa's case. Okay? I need you right now to help me, and not to worry about that girlfriend of yours."

Joe felt a little better. He had gotten his point across without insulting Callie too badly-- at all, really. He still had Frank's words about his feelings for Callie somewhere in the back of his mind, so he had tried to be reasonable.

Frank bit back the reply he really wanted to say, and countered Joe. "Look, Joe, of course I'm going to help you find Vanessa. I know you're worried. You should be. Callie, though, is not here, and although you think that I should ignore her right now, I simply can't. You know how you're always talking about gut instincts and all? Well-- Mine is that something you said, or something she said, caused her not to be here, and I'm just not getting a good feeling about it, okay?"

Joe took a deep breath. Frank WAS being relatively calm, and he didn't want a replay of how Frank had become so ill earlier. Joe hesitated. He knew Frank wouldn't like the truth, but there was almost no way to back out of it now.

"Fine, Frank, but you won't like this, okay?" Joe began with hesitation.

Frank tried to listen, ignoring his growing concern. "Go on."

"Callie told me about what she had told Vanessa, so I got angry, and I think it was justified. I did, um, fly off the handle maybe a bit too much, though," he finished.

"What did you say, _exactly_?" Frank was even- keeled, but Joe sensed his anger. Still, he told the truth.

"I told her that whatever happened to Vanessa would be her fault. I told her I never wanted to see her again, and that you wouldn't, either, if I had anything to do with it. I mentioned that she wasn't a good person, and that everyone had misjudged her because she was deceitful. In a nutshell, that's it." Joe raised his hands and shrugged.

Frank's jaw dropped open. It took him a minute to recover. "Joe?! How could you do that? How could you, of all people, tell Callie that she's solely responsible for Vanessa? Do you know what a huge burden of guilt that places on someone? And how could you bring ME into it? AND, after everything Callie's done for you, to tell her those things… that's… HORRIBLE!" Frank was stunned.

Joe rubbed his temple. "Look, Frank, I told you I think what Callie did was wrong, and I stand by that. BUT, I didn't know that she told you to tell me about it at the time, nor was I really thinking straight. I guess I owe her an apology, but that's not on my top list of priorities right now."

Frank sat up quickly, and a wave of intense pain ripped through he side. He cried out in pain involuntarily. Joe stared in horror at his brother, and quickly sat next to him on the edge of the bed and put his arm around him to steady him. He was through asking Frank if he was all right. Clearly he wasn't, and just as obvious was the fact that Frank wasn't about to admit it. Joe just quietly rubbed his brother's back for a few minutes, allowing Frank to get his bearings. As terrified as Joe was about Vanessa, he was growing just as concerned for Frank. Something was wrong, and he knew it. All Joe could do was keep Frank as comfortable as possible while working on this case, and when it was over, as Joe soon prayed it would be, he would INSIST that Frank get back to the hospital, and fast. One look at his brother's glassy eyes, wan complexion and body language was more than enough to cause Joe a lot of concern.

Gently, he spoke to his brother. "Look, Frank, I'll do anything you ask. I will find Callie, and I will apologize to her. I assume you went to find her, so I guess I can assume that Iola's not there, either."

Frank, head in his hands, just nodded slowly.

"Just promise me you'll take it easy, Frank. I'm not going to bother you about this, because if I were you, I'd probably do the same thing. I'm not used to you being so stubborn like me. I don't know if I like it."

Frank weakly looked up, and managed a small smile. "Yeah, it is kind of annoying."

"Oh, Frank," Joe sighed. "Dad'll be up in a minute. I want you to NOT move once you get comfortable. I'm not used to taking care of you- it's normally the opposite."

"I'm fine," Frank muttered.

"Yeah, right." Joe replied. "I'm sorry if I got out of hand with Callie. As soon as we find Vanessa, I'll help you find her. I'm sure she's fine. Now, here." Joe moved back and helped Frank to get comfortable. Joe was again taken by how terrible Frank looked, and it was beginning to get to him.

"Thanks. I'll be okay."

Joe sighed loudly. Then, instinctively, he hugged his brother tightly. "I'll make sure of that."

At that moment, Fenton Hardy walked through the door. He was surprised not only by the rare display of affection he saw between his sons, but by Frank's appearance.

"Son! Are you okay?"

"He's okay," Joe answered. "How did things go with the phone calls?"

Fenton sat down. "Well, everyone is on the highest alert. I spoke with Chief Collig and Con Riley, and placed some phone calls to the higher ups who need to know. They'll contact the high school. There is something I thought about, though."

"What's that?" asked Frank, softly.

"Well, if Vanessa is somehow exposed to the Meningitis, then she'd have to return to spread it to the school. So, if she is involved, she's either got to come back, or she's some sort of variation to the theme, which I don't know would make sense."

"That's true," Joe said, feeling a bit more spirited. "Then she'd have to call me—I left her a ton of messages. Or, if she's mad at me, she can call any one of our friends, whom I also had leave messages for. She'll never make it to school. I hope that's what will happen," he said, wistfully.

"She'll make it," Frank said, comforting him.

Joe looked at his big brother, who always thought of him before his own health or well-being in general. "Thanks, bro."

"Well," Fenton continued, "I think we need to look at these ads again. What do you say? Are you boys up for it? There's probably more information in them than we think."

"Absolutely!" Joe exclaimed. He took out the ads again, spreading them on the bed. They HAD to figure this one out.


	19. Chapter 19

_Sigh—I am so sorry about the delay! I will really try to post a chapter every 1- 2 days. I have been so busy and have fallen behind in my own reviews—badly—and I certainly hope to catch up soon. As always, for those of you who review, thank you so much. Your time and comments are very much appreciated!!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 19

Fenton Hardy watched his sons looking over the ads. He couldn't help but to be proud of the young men that they had become. He could hardly believe that Frank would be leaving soon for college, and that Joe would be a senior in high school. He was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia for the days when the most excitement that his two boys would have would be which game to play after dinner, and not tracking down terrorists and killers. That thought prompted him to think of his own case again. Try as he might, he could not escape the feeling that as serious as his sons' case was, his own was practically taunting him, mocking him that he couldn't break it. With that thought, he decided to look at one of the ads himself from the bed they were sitting on. Somehow, he at least felt productive here, and perhaps, buried somewhere in these ads, there could be an idea that would help him in his own case. After all, as Frank had pointed out, there were some similarities.

"Dad? Is there something on your mind?" This time Fenton realized it was Joe who was looking at him with concern. _Am I really that bad at disguising my thoughts? I'll have to work on that. _

With a wry smile, Fenton looked at Joe, who had stopped scrutinizing the ads for a moment. In that same glance, he noticed that Frank was struggling to stay awake.

"Um, Joe, why don't we take these ads and go over them outside. There's some information that I think you might know."

Joe looked puzzled, and Fenton motioned at Frank with a general nod in his direction. Joe caught the movement, nodded in agreement.

Frank seemed to snap awake at those words. "I'm okay," he mumbled.

"Son, I really think Joe would have some insights here based on his relationship with Vanessa, so let me talk to him first. We'll use the girls' room. We'll be back in a little while. In the meantime, get some rest." Fenton hoped his lie wasn't too obvious.

Frank looked too tired and drawn to care. "I… want to help," Frank managed, slurring his words a little.

Joe looked at Frank in concern, but then spoke up. "Frank, go to bed. I promise we'll wake you right away if we find anything. If it'll make you feel better, we'll stay right in here. I'm not going to argue with you. Period."

Frank looked from his father to his brother. They had made some strides with the case already, and he knew that they were both more than capable of handling the case. Still, he wanted to help. Despite that, he was beginning to get overwhelmed by exhaustion, the steady pain in his side, and weakness. He had been finding it difficult to concentrate, and he felt hot and cold simultaneously and was smart enough to figure out that wasn't good. So, hesitating, he finally murmured, "Okay, guys. Stay here. I'll rest for just a few minutes. Promise to wake me up if you need anything, or find anything,"

"Okay," Joe and Fenton responded at the same time.

Less than five minutes later, Frank was sound asleep. Fenton went to the closet, grabbed an extra blanket, and gently placed it over his son. Then, carefully, he placed a hand on Frank's forehead, which was warm. He looked down at Frank with worry, and then turned back to Joe. Keeping his voice low, he sat down on the other side of the room with Joe and said, simply, "I'm worried about Frank."

Joe nodded. "Yeah, me too."

Fenton shook his head. "Joe, I don't mean to worry you more than necessary, but your brother has a fever. He's very weak, and I think he's in at least mild discomfort, if not more than that. I'm telling you, son, nothing is more important to me than you and your brother—nothing. I'm giving us no more than a day or two to break this case; if we don't do it by then, Frank's going back to the hospital."

"I agree," Joe said shakily. The day was beginning to wear on him. Looking over the ads with his father, Joe asked him, "So, what was bothering you before?"

Fenton didn't look up from the ads he was looking at. "My case, Joe. I'm just frustrated. It's the same thing you have—terrorist, he leaves messages, he appears to want to be found—and you know what? For the first time in my life, I can't find him."

"Well, maybe this case will give you a new perspective."

"That's what I'm hoping."

"Yeah, that's good. I just—" Joe paused. "I just hope beyond anything, Dad, that Vanessa's all right."

"I know, son. I'll do anything I can to help her. That's why we need to understand these ads. So, let's start with what we know."

Joe sighed. "Okay. We know the high schools are all connected, and the pattern is in high schools across the U.S., which should represent the whole U.S. symbolically."

"Good. And you know that there's some encoded message that says something about "someday" and perhaps "being" or something to that effect," Fenton added.

Joe continued on his father's thought. "We also know that 'SWM' stood for the first high school attacked, that this person has some sort of fixation for Cinderella, that there's some connections to 'secret chambers of the heart'- whatever that means, and that he or she has to be rich—national ads aren't cheap."

Now Fenton was gaining momentum. It felt good to work with Joe. Although he had always been a tad closer to Frank and more like him in many ways, he had always admired his younger son's enthusiasm and work effort. Joe was a lot smarter than he often gave himself credit for. "Yes, Joe. The person must be wealthy. Also, look at the attacks—what are they? Meningitis, a rare strain. So…"

"So the person might be in the medical field or have access to it, somehow—so he or she must be pretty powerful," Joe interjected. He was beginning to feel his creative juices flow. He had missed that feeling.

"Joe, this is very good, but this is all the old information. Let's start with something new. Okay, let's look at the first lines of each ad." Together, they peered at the lines from the past ads.

_**507 ways of smiling**_

_**509 ways you like to dance**_

_**511 red roses in your dream garden**_

_**520 flowers surrounding you**_

"Okay," Fenton began. "What should strike you immediately about these lines?" he asked Joe.

Joe was perplexed by the words, and he told his father so. "Dad, there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the messages."

"I agree. But what IS there a rhyme and reason to -- maybe?"

Joe saw it. "The numbers! They're all in the 500 range, and they seem to be in a pretty close range."

"Yes! That's what I saw. I don't get it yet, either, but let's keep that thought in mind. Okay, now!" Fenton was getting excited. He had missed being useful for so long. "Let's look at the second lines."

_**9 times of 12 you'll say you love me**_

_**10 times of 12 you'll treat me to surprises**_

_**11 times of 12 you give smiles for no reason**_

_**12 times of 12 you set off fireworks in my heart**_

This time, it was Joe who spoke first. "Hey, Dad! If you look at the numbers again, this must be sequence or something. Whatever it is, it has happened or will happen twelve times. Maybe the earlier ads…"

"Exactly what I was thinking!" Fenton exclaimed. "Hold on! I'll be right back!" Within minutes, Fenton had managed to find a few scattered ads from weeks earlier he had managed to pick up but hadn't looked through. Sure enough, in sequential order, there were other ads, which ran numerically '7 of 12', '8 of 12' and so on. Joe and Fenton looked at each other. They were onto something, but what was it?

At that moment, Frank stirred. He couldn't have been asleep for more than 15 or 20 minutes, but apparently Joe and Fenton had been a little louder than necessary in their enthusiasm. Weakly, he opened his eyes, and, shakily, managed to sit up, although he looked like he would collapse. Involuntarily, Joe jumped up to try and catch his brother's fall.

"Joe," Frank said softly, "I'm not going to fall. I want to help." He rubbed his temples, fighting off dizziness. "You promised to let me."

Joe looked at his dad, who nodded reluctantly. Joe then filled Frank in on what they had discovered thus far, and then he brought the papers to Frank's bed, where he and his father then followed.

"Cool," Frank managed with a small smile. "That sounds like a break. Where were you up to?"

"The third lines," Joe answered his brother. As sick as Frank was, Joe had to admit he could use his insight at the moment.

"Okay, then. Let's figure this out." They peered at the lines in front of them again.

_**Love Lucky Charms**_

_2.__**Love big pepperoni pies**_

_**3.Love French fries and English muffins?**_

_4.__**Let's have a parade, for you'll light up my life!**_

"I have to admit, I have no ideas here," Fenton exclaimed at last. "These seem totally haphazard."

"But they're not," Frank interjected, "because they're in a sequential order in the ads. They must mean something!"

"Could the "L's" be significant? They all start with that," Joe tried.

"Could be," answered Fenton, "Although it's a stretch. Then again, what isn't in this case?"

After about ten more minutes of hypothesizing and guessing at random, Fenton and his sons were at a loss. Fenton lay back across the bed and stared at the ceiling. What could it mean?

"Hey!" Joe said. "All this talk in these ads of food is making me hungry. Look! French fries, English muffins, pizza. That's it! Let's order a pizza. I could go for some Italian!"

"Oh my God! That's it!" Frank shouted. Fenton immediately sat up. Whatever it was that could make Frank shout in his condition had to be worth something.

"Dad! Joe! Look! The ads have nothing to do with food. They look like places! The first one- the Lucky Charms one- what is that? Ireland! The pizza is Italy. What're the others? England? France? I don't get the fireworks one, but…."

Fenton gasped out loud. No! It couldn't be! Was it?!

The boys looked at their father, whose face had turned ashen.

"Dad! What's the matter?" Joe grabbed his father before he fell to the floor.

"Joseph!" He managed at last. "Get me those ads! Now!" Joe quickly gathered them and handed them to his father. "Oh, God! Oh, God! I see it now! MY GOD!"

"What?" Frank asked, panicked. His father never acted this way.

Fenton started to tremble. The possibility of this happening was miniscule, but it HAD happened.

"Boys!" Fenton began. He had to make them understand, and then they could help him with the final piece. "Don't you see? Frank is right. The first place is Ireland. The second is Italy. The third is NOT France or England—it's Canada, where in the city that was just bombed, they speak English AND French! Boys- this is MY case, too! These are the terrorist bombings, I think! Look at the first parts of the ads again!"

"What could the numbers in the 500s be?" Joe questioned excitedly.

"I get it! Dad—do you see? They're dates!! 5/7, 5/9, 5/11, and 5/20. Do those dates sound right to you?" Frank asked, eager to test his theory.

"L…let me check." Fenton flipped open his planner. "Yes! Yes! That's it! Except…."

"Except 5/20 didn't happen yet! That's today!" Joe blurted, already feeling the consequences of his words.

"Boys," Fenton spoke forcefully. "We need to break this code, right away, if we can avert another tragedy. Then we need to figure out HOW and WHY these cases are connected."

"Have there been 11 other bombings?" Frank questioned.

"Yes, I think so. Remember I told you we've been working on this for months? No one realized how serious it was at first because the bombings were much smaller at the time."

"Dad! I just thought of something else," Joe interrupted. "That Latin motto- the 'ad corda' part. That means "to the heart" doesn't it? Or, couldn't it mean…"

"Secret chambers of the heart!" Frank and Fenton said together.

"Yes!" Joe explained in both excitement and dread. "That's the 'heart' of this organization, and the heart on which the insignias were written. The 'secret chambers' must be the secret members or something. We already know the other part talks about tyrants, which is self-explanatory. Don't forget what they said, too. "Be forewarned and forearmed"- they were mocking the police, the international community, and everyone else, announcing their targets and telling the world that they weren't afraid."

"So what's the next target?" Frank asked.

"Son, that's what we need to find out, now! It's getting late already. Look, look closely- tell me what you boys think!"

Joe's heart began to pound. Vanessa was in grave danger. Suddenly, he found it hard to concentrate_. Not now, not now!_ he prayed.

Frank spoke up first. "Okay. The first part of the ads mention the following things: smiling, dancing, dream gardens, and flowers. The second part mentions smiles again, but also love, surprises, and fire works. The last one, where is should be announced, says "parade" and "you light up my life." How are they connected?"

Frank and Fenton's minds were working in overdrive, and they were coming up empty. Then, Joe had an epiphany. It was the most clear thing in the world, and he had no idea why no one else could see it. His heart dropped as soon as he realized it. "No! No! No!" he shouted, getting up and running to the window. "Dad! Help! We have to help Vanessa! Now!"

Joe felt like he couldn't breathe. Tears welled up in his eyes and began to stream down his face. Frank froze, stunned. Fenton went to get up, but Joe just shouted, "No!"

"What? What, Joe, do you see?! Tell me!"

"Dad!" Joe choked out. "Don't you see it? It's been here all along! Where else would everyone be smiling and happy? Where are parades and fireworks held? Where are there gardens and surprises and flowers? Dad!" Joe was sobbing now. "Don't you get it? The U.S. is the next target. And guess where? Where else would Cinderella have her ball? Why didn't I see it? The ball, the glass slipper, the TWELVE, dad? The stroke of midnight!" He glanced at his watch. "Dad, in less than four hours, Disney World, specifically Cinderella's Castle, will be bombed!" He grabbed the papers off the bed and threw them. "And whatever it is, it's big, because it's the "FINAL, REAL" deal, with the final Princess, at the "HEART" of innocence!

"We have to save Vanessa!" he cried.

"And thousands of others," Fenton shouted

"In under four hours…" Frank added in dread.

The silence that followed was ended by the sound of the grandfather clock in the room. The chimes began. It was now 8:00. The clock ticked…..


	20. Chapter 20

_Thank you a million times for your reviews. You have all helped to make a difficult time better!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 20

Callie Shaw tried to her impatience as she glanced at her watch. It was almost 8:15 at night. She desperately wanted to go back to the hotel and to see Frank. She also wanted, just as badly, to go to sleep. She was in one of those moods where you felt like you were watching yourself go through the motions, but you weren't really in the present. She had tried as hard as she possibly could to be cheery, but she had never really been good at hiding her emotions. Iola, she was sure, could sense her lack of enthusiasm. However, as she glanced at her friend getting some cotton candy, Callie couldn't help but to smile sadly. _Poor Iola, _she thought to herself. _She deserves some fun. _Unfortunately, with Vanessa missing, Joe extremely hostile towards her, and Frank being hurt, there was no way that Callie could provide that fun for her friend.

Before she knew what was happening, Iola came up happily behind her. "Cal? Do you want some cotton candy? It's awesome!"

Callie looked at the food, and her stomach turned. She actually had been so hungry before when she couldn't eat, and now she was past hunger. She wanted sleep. Still, she tried futilely to feign enthusiasm. "Iola? No, thanks. I... I, um, have to go to the ladies room. Will you excuse me for a few minutes?"

Iola looked at her. "Sure. Callie? Are you still worried? I mean, Vanessa probably is fine. You don't look like you're having fun."

Suddenly, Callie couldn't lie anymore. "Actually, Iola, I wanted to be back a while ago. I didn't think you'd get the hopper pass and we'd wind up over in Disney World, itself. I'm tired, and I AM worried about Vanessa, and I really want to check on Frank."

Iola felt teary-eyed all of a sudden. Callie saw it at once, and instantly felt bad. "I'm sorry, Iola."

Iola took a deep breath. "Cal? I didn't mean to mess things up. I… I was just trying to help. I saw that you were sad, and I didn't want you to be. This… this is what I need. I mean, I didn't need to be right here, right now, obviously, but sometimes being out and doing things helps me to relax a little. Since…." Iola could barely finish the words, but she carried on. "Since Lazarus, I've been so terrified of everything. You're the only person I can turn to in order to have a good time with no hidden agendas. I love Joe dearly, I really do, but there's so much _pressure _to return to normal, the way things were. And it's so much harder than I thought." Now, Iola started to cry softly.

Callie hugged her. "I know, Iola. Joe's a good person. He's trying. He.. he loves you. I know he does."

Iola hugged Callie back. "Thanks, Callie. But since when do you have to TRY at love? He's not the only one. I can't go back to school yet, since I missed so much, and I feel like an outcast. I'm starting home-schooling and tutoring in the summer to get caught up. Then, my family is driving me nuts. They'd kill me if they knew all the crazy stuff I've done with Joe since I came back. They don't even want me to see Joe, really. They never actually said that, but the implication is there. I…. HATE THIS!" Iola shouted.

Callie was shocked. She hadn't realized how much Iola had been holding in. Once again, she felt torn between the loyalty and love she had for Iola and the same loyalty and love she had for Vanessa. _It's ironic_, she thought. _I'm in the same predicament as Joe, and he hates __me__._

"Oh, Iola," Callie sighed. "I'm so sorry for you, I really am. If there was anything I could do to make you feel better, believe me that I would." Callie paused, thinking of what to say next. She was developing yet another migraine headache, which she had developed a lot over the past six months or so, and she felt slightly nauseated. Still, if Iola wanted to have fun, then Callie would have to allow that.

"Iola? I know you've been excited about coming here, so if you want to go on rides, or do anything else, I'll do it. I'm warning you—I feel slightly like throwing up, so please—let's avoid roller-coasters. Just please- do you mind if I call Frank? I just want to tell him we are and to see if he's okay."

"Of course! Are you sure you don't mind?"

"No," Calle said, slowly. "I honestly don't."

"Ask Frank if he's heard from Vanessa."

Callie smiled at her friend, noting her concern. She could see Iola was sincere about this whole bizarre situation. "I will. In the meantime, what DO you want to do?"

Iola's face lit up. "Well, I've always wanted to see the parade of lights near Cinderella's castle. I've heard it's so pretty. They have a show at 10:00 and a show at midnight. Is... is that okay?" Iola looked so nervous about inconveniencing Callie that Callie actually felt bad, even though she thought she might collapse on the spot from tiredness and a migraine.

"Okay, my friend. Whatever you want. Let me sneak away for a minute or two, okay?"

"Tell Joe I said hi."

_Oh, sure, _Callie thought, wryly, but she just nodded in Iola's direction, who had gone to have a seat on a nearby park bench.

Callie took out her cell phone, which she noticed, right away, had a 'low battery' signal on it. With a groan, Callie realized that she had been unable to charge it the past three days due to recent events. She maybe had enough time for one or two phone calls, so she had to decide where to call. If she called the hospital, Frank might be at the hotel, and vice versa. So, without thinking, she tried his cell phone. As it was ringing, Callie felt tears begin to well in her eyes. She was so TIRED, and she was really worried about everything. Just taking the time to call Frank made her think of him, and how she wished she was with him right now. Sometimes, when he held her, she felt all her problems disappear. She longed for his arms around her now.

Much to Callie's dismay, she got Frank's familiar voicemail message. She tried to collect her thoughts to not sound like an idiot, and, at the same time, she saw the battery light flashing again. She heard a beep, and said quickly into the phone, "Hi sweetie, it's me. I'm so sorry I'm not there right now—it's a long story. I—I'm thinking about you, and I hope you're feeling better. I was also wondering if you heard from Vanessa. Please let me know if I can do anything. Believe it or not, I'm at Disney World right now with Iola. We took a cab here, so I don't even know how Iola's planning to get us back. I'll try to be back as soon as possible. I'll leave the cell on, but I honestly don't know how long my charge will last. I'll try to check back later." Callie noticed her phone was dying, "I can't wait to see you. I love you. Bye."

With that, Callie's phone went dead. Seeing Iola smiling in the distance, Callie took a deep breath, and started her walk over there. Her plan was simple- get some water and some aspirins, sit down for a light dinner in the Park with something she could actually stomach, and try as best as she could to rest. "_Well, Cinderella's Castle, here we come," _she said softly to herself, wishing that the night would soon be over.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooo

Vanessa Bender, meanwhile, had been escorted into a huge palace of sorts. Since the limo had pulled inside the castle- or whatever it was- Vanessa had absolutely no idea where she was. Mr. Happy, the driver, led her down a huge, elaborately decorated hallway into a room in the far corner. He was carrying her dress and shoes for her. She couldn't help but to think ironically to herself, "_Well, chivalry is not dead," _and immediately swallowed the lump in her throat. Nothing about this situation was funny.

Finally, they stopped at the end of the hall in front of a doorway. Vanessa looked at the driver with his smile- always that constant smile. She felt sick.

"This is your room, Miss Vanessa. Dress quickly. Shower. Freshen up. You'll have exactly one hour before you meet Prince Charming. I'm sure you'll find everything to your satisfaction. You'll have all necessary amenities, including some light refreshments."

"Is there a PHONE?" Vanessa asked, sarcastically.

"No, Miss Vanessa, although there is a television set and radio. The room is quite elaborate. The Prince will let you make any necessary phone calls, I'm sure. Now, make sure to wear the dress. I'll be back in an hour. Enjoy." With that, he opened up the doors and escorted Vanessa in. Vanessa gasped. Everything was so… grandiose. The walls, the ceiling, the bed- yet, they were almost too grand, to the point where elegance is replaced by being ostentatious.

Before Vanessa could turn around, she heard the doors slowly shut behind her. Quickly, she ran to them. As she suspected, they were locked. Vanessa explored the room for the next fifteen minutes. There was food, a bar, a glorious bathtub with candles—yet, it all seemed too fake to her somehow, as if she took a deep breath she could blow down the room, a Hollywood production of sorts. She felt trapped, and thought for the thousandth time about how she could have been so stupid to get herself into this predicament. She deserved a big slap. On the other hand, she thought, so did Joe. Vanessa looked at her hands, which were shaking. And, as much as she tried to resist it, she looked at the dress. She knew she had to wear it. What kind of sick game was this anyhow? She looked at the clock. She had only forty minutes left.

At once, she heard the phone ring loudly, and she almost felt her heart leap out of her throat. Covering her chest with her hand, she muttered, "God! I hope that's the closest I'll ever get to a heart attack!" Walking to the phone, she hesitantly picked it up. "H… hello?"

"Vanessa!" The voice was deep and friendly sounding, and, if Vanessa wasn't mistaken, it had the faintest trace of an accent to it.

"Yes?" she stammered.

"Are you finding things to your satisfaction, my dear?"

"W-- Who is this?"

"My dear, one must always answer the question addressed first. It is so very- American- to answer a question with a question. Now, let's try again."

Vanessa held the phone away from her. This was getting out of control. Still, she wanted to know who was at the other end, so she tried to play along. "I… I mean, I don't know what's going on, but the room is lovely, yes."

"And the dress?"

Vanessa was shaking. "Yes, that too."

"Wonderful! I look forward to meeting my Princess at last."

Vanessa gasped. The Prince! It couldn't be, but it was! What should she do? Vanessa panicked. Evidently, he sensed it. "Vanessa, don't be afraid. You're a very special girl, my last Princess. I will not harm you, you'll see. At least, not so you remember." Vanessa gasped audibly. "That was a JOKE, my dear. Laugh. It is good for the soul, and for the heart, and its many secret chambers. What can I do to make you more comfortable?"

"Let me out of here!" Vanessa cried. She felt the tears start to fall.

"My dear, this was your choice. You'll find everything you need. Look, do you wish to make a phone call?"

Vanessa couldn't believe it. This had to be a cruel joke. "Come, dear, I can tell by your expression that you do. Go ahead. Just realize you are allowed one call. It will be monitored.Anything—undesirable—you say will have to be cut off. You understand. A good princess always follows the rules."

"Can I call my …boyfriend?" Vanessa was almost afraid to hope.

"Of course, my dear, as you will soon be mine. Say goodbye. Remember, we are monitoring your calls. I look forward to seeing you at supper. Goodbye, love." He hung up.

Suddenly Vanessa started to cry harder than before. What had he just said? _Say Good bye? _She tried to regain control, and then realized what else was not sitting well with her. _Oh, God! He had said, 'I can see your expression'. _Vanessa froze. She was being watched.

With shaking hands, Vanessa dialed Joe's cell phone. _Damnit_! He wasn't there. Something was either wrong with this phone or his. Who knew? For all Vanessa knew, this was a place that couldn't get reception. She had one more choice—Frank's cell phone. Where there was Frank, there was usually Joe.

Again, with trembling fingers, Vanessa dialed Frank's number. He didn't pick up. Vanessa started to cry again. She heard Frank's message, and tried to sound calm so they would let it go through. "F... Frank? It's me, Vanessa." Vanessa heard her voice crack. "I… I wanted to see Joe and to tell him I love him." Vanessa didn't hear the phone get cut off. Then, she had a great idea—leave a clue. But what? Suddenly, she got it. "T... tell Callie she's such a sweetie, and that I said Goodbye. Tell Joe he's the Prince I've always wanted- there's nothing more to ADD. Well, I don't want to get too PERSONAL, so I'll say goodbye again." She hung up. What else could she say? She couldn't tell Joe where she was as she had no idea. Joe didn't even know she had replied to this thing; these ads. Still, Callie did. And, if she remembered correctly, Callie had wanted to tell Frank. _Please, God, let him understand that, _she thought.

Again, the phone rang. Vanessa picked it up.

"Very good, dear. You will make a wonderful Princess after all! I shall see you in a half-hour."

Vanessa, shaking, found herself one half-hour later, ready to go. She looked in the mirror. She was dressed like—like Cinderella, from the shoes to the gown to the way her hair was pulled back, at the Prince's request. _Hurry, Joe, please_ she begged silently. She heard a noise. The door opened.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joe Hardy looked at his watch. It was almost 9:00. He was in a car heading with his father as quickly as possible to Disney World. His father had been on Joe's phone and his own since their discovery an hour earlier, alerting anyone and everyone he could possibly think of to this situation. How on earth would you abandon an entire amusement park? Joe shuddered, thinking of all the people who were in danger, including little children. He couldn't fathom the thought. He thought of Iola- where was she? It was unusual not to have her call. Then again, maybe she had tried, but his dad was using the phone. More than anything, though, he thought of Vanessa, holding back his tears from his father. He needed her—the thought of harm coming to her was unconscionable. For the first time in a long time, Joe Hardy prayed, knowing in the back of his mind that he had just recently asked God that if he had protected Frank, he'd never ask for anything again. Looking up at the star-filled sky through tear-filled eyes, Joe prayed that God didn't hold grudges.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxx

Frank Hardy was making as many phone calls from his hotel room as he could. His dad had given him all sorts of numbers and codes to call, and though some calls took convincing, he felt he was making headway. He had wanted to go with Joe, but his dad and brother had insisted he didn't. Frank couldn't disagree. He felt horrible. The pain in his side was so intense now that Frank could barely think straight. He knew he had a fever and he knew, rationally, that he had to get to a doctor, fast. He couldn't, though, not with the magnitude of this case. They had to prevent this bombing-- they HAD to. For a brief moment, Frank leaned over the desk he was sitting at and rested his head on his hands. He felt tears come to his eyes, and was surprised at that. Rarely did he ever cry. Still, the case was so big, and the pain was so intense, that's all he really wanted to do. An image of Callie briefly floated through his mind. Frank bit his lip. He really wished she was here. Where WAS she anyway?

All of a sudden, Frank heard a slight vibrating sound that he wouldn't have noticed had he not been silent for a moment. With a groan, he realized it was his cell phone. Someone had left messages for him. Of course, it was on the other side of the room. Weakly, Frank got up, and limped over to the bed. With all the pain his right side was causing him, he had almost forgotten about his leg, which, at that very moment, almost gave out. Still, Frank managed to make it to the bed. Plopping down gently, he hit his password and listened to his voicemail.

His face drained of color. Callie! God, no! She was at Disney World?! Frank felt his heart stop beating. Anything but that! "Callie," he whispered softly, "no." Frank almost stopped after that message, but didn't. Now he knew how bad things were. It was Vanessa! As Frank listened to the message, his worst fears were confirmed. He immediately picked up on Vanessa's code, since he knew what was going on. They had her! These terrorists had Vanessa, and they were planning on blowing up one of the biggest and most crowded places on earth, where the girl he loved was waiting, unaware of the horrors to come.

Frank felt dizzy and weak. He instantly called his father, forwarding both messages to him. He could tell his dad was listening to each word, and that he would be the one to tell Joe the news. "Oh, Frank," he ended with. "Son, this is horrible news. I'll be in touch."

Frank tried to make his way back to the desk, and did, slowly, He coughed, causing ripples of pain to explode within him. As he pulled his hand away from his mouth, he noticed there was blood on it. Finally, Frank couldn't take it any longer. His body was physically at its breaking point, and he felt his heart was as well. Weakly, fighting back all pride, Frank dialed 9-1-1. After all, this was the biggest emergency he'd face in his life, and he wanted to make sure he was around to face it. He sat back in the chair and waited for the ambulance to arrive. Fighting for consciousness, he thought of Vanessa, and Iola, and his father. He thought of the innocent people in Florida. Most of all, he thought of Joe and Callie. Finally, the darkness encircled him.


	21. Chapter 21

_Thank you so much for your reviews. You have all made me smile. I promise to get to all of your stories soon—things are looking up here—a bit!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 21

Vanessa Bender found herself in the presence once again of the limo driver who, apparently, had taken on multiple roles. Who WAS this guy, anyhow? Was he a servant, a driver, the right hand man of this "Prince Charming" guy? Vanessa didn't know, but she certainly knew that she didn't like him a bit. As the door opened, Vanessa was immediately spoken to.

"Ah, Miss Vanessa. Don't you look LOVELY today? I'm glad to see that you have decided to dress in a manner that is pleasing to the Prince. Truly, you look stunning. Now, shall we go? The Prince awaits. You have a very special evening together. This, my dear, is your chosen night."

Vanessa took a deep, if ragged, breath. As much as she wanted to cry, or to lash out, she knew that neither choice was really a viable option. Silently, she closed her eyes for a moment and thought of her friends and her family, and of the long life she had always hoped would dawn so promisingly in front of her. Above all, though, she thought about Joe. Although he had treated her badly, she loved him still, and she knew, deep down, that Joe couldn't have forgotten her so quickly, either. So, as Vanessa prepared for what truly might be the end of her life, she asked God not to protect her, but to protect those she loved, especially Joe.

When they had first met, she had still seen the pain in his eyes over the loss of Iola. The thought that he, again, would be consumed with guilt if something should happen to her was unfathomable. _After all_, she thought, _if you really love someone, you always want him to be happy_. Holding back tears, she added to herself, _whether it's with you or without you_.

"Miss Vanessa?" Vanessa was brought back to reality by the sound of the driver's voice.

Bravely, she responded, "I'm coming."

He led her through a series of what must have been back hallways, because she wasn't privy to seeing any windows or what lay beyond them. The halls were, indeed, grand. There were beautiful pictures and paintings of lovely foreign men and women. Shaking, Vanessa was trying to be as observant as possible, while, at the same time, not really appreciating the beauty and grandiose nature of this mansion.

She did manage to note the various rooms and tried to peer inside each one as they passed by. Some were glorious, others were smaller; each one, though, looked almost surreal—a child's paradise in an adult world. As Vanessa tried to peer into a nearby room, she almost went flying as she tripped over her dress with the stupid high- heeled glass slippers. She was instantly caught by Mr. Smiles, from whom she recoiled at once.

"S… sorry..." she muttered under her breath.

"It is quite all right, Miss Vanessa. Grace and elegance are sometimes hard to come by in princesses. Fortunately for you, you will not be doing much walking this evening. Nonetheless, your beauty is inspiring, and your posture is formidable, both of which are excellent signs. You must be, with heels, over six foot tall, eh?"

Vanessa wasn't in the mood for chitchat, yet she was torn between wanting to delay her inevitable meeting with the Prince, and wanting to meet him to try and get answers. Slowly, she responded, "Yes, you're right. I guess with these heels- I'd be about 6'2" or 6'3". A bit tall for Cinderella, don't you think?" Vanessa didn't want to get herself in trouble, but maybe she could get this guy on her side. It was not a good idea.

"Oh, Miss Vanessa. Stop with your futile attempts to sway me, and your fear is really quite unnecessary. It will soon enough be over, anyway. The many other women who have come here have left quite pleased, never knowing what lay in store for them. Your "final" outing, so we say, shall be far more glorious. Besides, in truth, by the time any one figures out the "secret chambers of the heart" as they have thus far been unable to do, we will have accomplished our goals. Relax."

"What on earth are you talking about? Why do you always speak in codes?" Vanessa was frustrated and perplexed.

The driver merely laughed. "Don't worry, Miss Vanessa."

Finally, she was led to a huge oak door. It was opened by the smiling man. Vanessa gasped as she looked in. It was a huge dining room, with one of those long oak tables that people saw only in movies. It was decorated similarly, too, with candles in the middle and the chairs at either end of the long table. She froze.

"Miss Vanessa, have a seat, please." Her seat was pulled out for her and, having no choice, Vanessa did as she was told.

"Your Prince will be with you momentarily."

Vanessa shuddered. "Yeah," she said softly to herself, "Like I'll ever eat any of his stuff. It's probably poisoned." Still, she continued to look around the room, feeling absolutely ridiculous dressed up as she was. One thing that she did take note of was the fact that this room seemed to be half a dining room, and half a library. She was drawn to the titles of the books, many of which, she noticed, seemed to be related to the medical profession. There were also various books where the titles were written in some sort of foreign language. She was about to get up and look at them when the doors on the other side of the room opened. She gasped. It was the Prince!!

He was handsome, in an odd sort of way. He had olive skin and dark hair, with dark eyes as well. He was not the type of person one would ordinarily pick out in a crowd in an everyday setting. However, as he stood now, there was no way one could miss him. He was dressed from head to toe in glistening white, and was wearing what looked to be either an original suit or a military uniform. He had the brass on his right lapel that obviously signified something, and Vanessa couldn't help but to notice that all up his sleeves, which were interwoven with gold, were small heart insignias. Now, she was truly frightened.

He instantly smiled at her. "My dear, we finally meet." He came up to Vanessa and lifted her hand, kissing it gently. Vanessa could only stare.

"How are you? I trust that all accommodations have been to your satisfaction. MY! Your picture did not do you justice. You really are quite lovely. To be honest, I originally wanted a red-head for my final production, as the real Cinderella was, but your letter—it spoke to me. You were from the right town, you dated the right boy—Hardy, isn't it? Yes, we leave no stone unturned. His father and our organization have crossed paths a few times, although he'll never remember it, as our names, each "chamber", if you will, have changed throughout time, Nonetheless, I am quite amazed. You are lovely."

He spoke with the faintest trace of an accent, and, although smiling and pleasant, there was something of an insincerity to his words. Vanessa picked up on it right away; like Joe, she always had good instincts for character.

She finally found her voice, and could only ask what was on her mind. "W... What are you planning to do with me?" she stammered.

The Prince smiled. "Ah, I see you're not one for small talk. Very well, then." He walked to the other side of the table and sat down.

"Okay, Vanessa," he began. "You are different from my other girls. You are an American Princess, and your final destination will not be home. Tonight, we are going to celebrate a huge victory for- – well, that's for me to know. Still, it is good to have your company. Please, eat and enjoy. Whatever you will like, we shall make. Then, we are going to Disney World. Well, you are, and some of my associates. You will be paraded into your castle, where you will be on display for all to see. Then, my dear, at the stroke of midnight, you will become the stuff of legends and dreams. You will be the focus of a very special, shall we say, "Parade of Lights" that will be the catalyst for a new world order. You will be forever remembered. There is no need to thank me. Rather than having you return to high school, where you would eventually slip into memory, although you would bring about some—endings of your own—you will be here, in your REAL home. Your Castle. How does that sound?"

Vanessa stared in horror. "I… I don't understand!" she cried.

"Ah, you don't need to. Now, hurry. It is 9:30. In an hour, all preparations must be made."

"But…" Vanessa sobbed.

"Just sing happy songs when you're sad, my Princess. With that, he began singing softly. "_It's a world of laughter, a world of tears. It's a world of hope, and a world of fears. There's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware, it's a small world after all."_

Then, he began laughing, his face twisting into almost a maniacal grin. He took his fork and knife and began pounding it into the table, trying to regain control of his senses.

Vanessa, trying to back away in terror, just screamed…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the meantime, Callie again looked at her watch. It was getting late, and they'd never make the 10:00 show. As she was walking with Iola, she was suddenly hit with such a wave of pain going through her head that she felt like she would collapse. In fact, she did reach for a nearby bench, which happened to be unoccupied at the moment, and sat down. Placing her hands over her eyes, she struggled to regain her composure and to fight back the nausea that was coming over her. _Not again, _she prayed silently to herself.

She felt Iola's arm around her. "Callie? What's the matter? What's wrong?" Callie could hear the panic in Iola's voice.

Callie just waived her off, and it took her a good five or six minutes to actually breathe normally again. She felt her eyes well with tears. In the last months, she had more and more frequently suffered from these headaches. At first, they had been nothing, although they had made her a bit uncomfortable. Then, gradually, they had become more and more severe. Sometimes, she had to just go to bed and shut off all the lights, since she couldn't see them without seeing spots. Generally, the spells passed quickly enough, but they were enough to weaken her for most of the day. Callie had never been one for going to doctors, so she hadn't bothered to mention it to her family or friends. She wouldn't have even told Frank, had not he borne witness to one of her episodes.

With tears streaming down her face, Callie remembered how concerned Frank had been. He had taken care of her, getting her pillows and blankets, and any medicine he could find. He had also stayed with her, holding her hand, and not expecting her to talk. After that, she had been forced to confess her occasional migraines to him, and she had promised to visit a doctor about them. Frank told her he'd go with her, too, which had made her feel better. Although Callie was really quite sure it was nothing, these increasingly more frequent invasions into her life were becoming a royal pain. She knew that this probably had to do with stress. On her last case with Frank and Joe, her body had really been run down. Now this case was doing the same thing to her. She had no idea how much weight she had lost, but she could see it, although she managed to hide it well. Slowly, so slowly, the pain began to subside. Callie felt a little better, but when she went to stand, he legs were so wobbly she could barely do it. She felt Iola grab her and help her to sit down.

"Cal? Are you okay now? Oh, don't cry!" Iola said to her.

With a start, Callie realized that she HAD been crying. Was it the pain, the stress, or the tiredness? She honestly couldn't tell. Weakly, she reached over to Iola.

"I'll make it, don't worry." She tried to smile, but found she couldn't. "Iola? We can still see the parade of lights, but I think I need to lie down, maybe just for an hour or so. Then, I'm sure I'll be better. I'm just—tired, that's all. If we go now, we can still see the midnight show. We'll get there around 11:00. You can go and get dinner, if you want. I really can't eat."

Iola felt terrible. This was all HER fault. "Oh, Callie! I'm so sorry. Do you want to leave? I mean, we can."

"No, no, that's okay. I just need to rest," Callie replied softly.

"Oh. Okay, then. Well, since the parade is around the Castle, I happen to know that the Castle is just kind of empty-- a walkway, if you will."

Callie looked up at her friend, wondering what the point of this was.

"Well, it's just that seriously, right next to the Castle, there are not only the bathrooms, but the lost and found, and the infirmaries as well. I guess people figure that if they get lost or are sick, everyone will be able to find them. Plus, it should be great, because the Castle is right there. Believe me, if anything goes on there, we'll know about it."

With that, she leaned down to help Callie. "Let's go."

Callie, leaning against Iola, looked up at the night sky, and wondered, for an instant, where her place in the world should be at that very moment. Somehow, she had a bad feeling that this wasn't supposed to be it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooo

Joe Hardy stared in horror at his father as he related the news from Frank. It took him a moment or two to clear his head and make sure that he had heard correctly. Also, he tried to control his heartbeat, which he felt pounding in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he turned to his father as his dad continued to speed towards Disney World.

"Dad? Don't tell me you said what I just think you did," he sputtered out.

Fenton glanced sidelong at his son. He was used to driving, talking on cell phones and talking to others in the car with him, but it was always difficult to drive and speak with someone who was upset. Unfortunately, he couldn't pull over, as time was of the essence.

"Yes, son, that's right. Not only is Vanessa quite possibly the next victim of Meningitis, but she's likely to be somewhere around here. She left a code on Frank's voicemail, which I let you listen to. Surely, you picked that up. It's too bad she didn't tell us where she was. " Fenton's face was stony. "But we'll find out."

"And…and…." Joe couldn't find the words, but Fenton knew what he was getting at. "Yes, Joe. And Callie Shaw and Iola Morton are, for some reason or another, there, too."

Joe felt himself tremble. Oh, God. Not Iola and Vanessa again! He really didn't think he could take this. "We need to get there, Dad, hurry!"

"Fifteen more minutes, Joe. I'm going as fast as I can."

"Dad? Did you- find out any more information? What's going on there? What have you called for? Did Frank get through?" Joe was desperate for any answers he could get.

Fenton sighed. "Son, first of all, your brother does not sound well. I hope he doesn't get any crazy ideas to come down here. But… he might, knowing Callie is in danger. This is a real mess."

"Yeah," Joe muttered, fighting back his emotions.

"They're calling in police officers and the FBI and CIA that are located here. The Park is officially being closed, in that no one else is being let in. The problem becomes panic. How do you evacuate an entire park without mass chaos? How do you know there aren't more bombs placed throughout? I think they'll continue with daily routines, like this parade they have every few nights. This is bad for us, of course, since it makes it one of the more crowded nights of the week. Let the authorities worry about moving the people inside. We'll meet up at the entrance with some agents, officers, bomb -sniffing dogs, bomb squads, of course, and the like. Joe?" he looked at his son. "I know you're worried. I… I'd really like it, though, if you stayed here, away from all of this. If we're not fast enough…. Well, I want you safe. I _need _you safe." Fenton's voice trembled on the last sentence.

Joe looked at his father. All of a sudden, he felt like a little kid again. "Dad? I can't do that. Two people I care about very much are in serious danger, and I have to do whatever I can to help. I'm not afraid of danger."

Fenton shook his head. "I know who you're referring to—let's not forget Callie is there, too."

Joe bit his lip. "Yeah, she's … well, she's something else, too. Of course, I want her to be safe."

"Son?" Fenton reached over to Joe, just like when he was a child, and grabbed his hand tightly. "If anything should happen tonight, you know I love you, right?"

Joe tried not to cry. "I know. I love you, too."

As they pulled into Disney World, Joe hoped that the Magic Kingdom, where dreams could come true, would live up to its slogan. He definitely needed some sort of magic to pull this off. "PLEASE, Vanessa. Iola. Be okay," he whispered to himself. He looked at his watch. It was almost 11:00.


	22. Chapter 22

_Only 6 or so more chapters to go! Many, many thanks to those who have left reviews… after this story, I'll get back to writing comments on stories from so many of you wonderful authors out there!! Special thanks to Josie, TiFal55, Missme113, Polaris, Ranger Fairy, and Alicia._

Classified Secrets

Chapter 22

About ten minutes after 11:00, Joe and Fenton Hardy pulled into Disney World's main entrance. Already, they could see chaos ensuing. All around them, people were standing, talking, and complaining, wondering why they could no longer gain admittance to the park. Little children pulled at the hands of their parents, tears streaming down their faces, as the parents tried in vain to explain why they couldn't see the "pretty light show." _If only they knew, _Joe thought, as he hurried through the gates.

Within minutes, Joe and Fenton managed to make their way into the main security area, directly in view of Cinderella's Castle. Immediately, Fenton went to work, speaking with the government and state officials who were already planning some sort of pre-emptive move. The place was hopping with activity. Joe looked around, fighting back the panic that was threatening to swallow him up. If they couldn't stop this group, how many of the hundreds, maybe thousands of people, sitting and laughing so innocently, would be dead within an hour? Even more on his mind, though, was Iola and Vanessa. What sort of trouble could they be in? In shame, Joe realized that he was even more concerned for Vanessa than for Iola, for she was somehow at the center of whatever was about to go down. In one of the few moments of utter clarity in his life, Joe realized that no matter what happened, he did love Vanessa, and he'd have to tell her. He loved Iola as well, but differently, and for the first time, he began to realize that. Hands shaking, Joe just prayed that he would get the chance to tell his girls, the both of them, how dearly he loved them. He also knew in his heart that his choice was made. He'd have to wait until later, IF he got the chance, to tell …. his _true love_ how he felt.

Joe caught sight of his father after a few moments, and pulled him aside. "Dad? What's going on? Can we go in? I mean, who are these guys? What's their agenda? Have you found out any answers?" Joe knew he sounded frantic, but that was okay—he WAS frantic.

Fenton Hardy's concern was etched on his face. "Son, we don't have a lot of time, but I'll tell you what I do know, or what I, and many others, THINK, is going on."

"Go ahead." Joe was anxious to move, to get any answers that he could.

"Joe, in about 10 minutes, at 11:30, we're going to try and move up to the castle. We have to be very careful; we don't want to panic the masses. There is a parade of lights, as you know, that will start around that time. For some reason, a lot of people think it starts at midnight, but it doesn't; it ends there, with a huge fireworks display. Unfortunately, we know what they fireworks will be."

"But…" Joe struggled for words. "Are there other bombs planted? Whatever this one is, it's got to be huge. And Vanessa… where is she?"

Fenton gave Joe an affectionate squeeze on his arm. "I really don't know. What I do know is that in a few minutes, this parade will start. As we speak, a lot of people are moving in on the castle secretly. Officers, within the past hour since you cracked this, have been working feverishly on other areas of the Park. The President—not of Disney, but of the United States- is being kept informed of our progress. We have a serious international threat on our hands. Obviously, the United States is the final target."

"But dad- WHO are these people? What do they want?" Joe didn't understand, and any information he could get that might later aide him would be beneficial, especially if it helped him to find Vanessa and Iola.

"That, Joe, is what we've been working on. Nothing seemed to make much sense to us, not until the connections that you and your brother found in the ads between Prince Charming and this other group. We think what's been happening is that there is an international terrorist group that is opposed to all forces of the Western World and the freedoms that it represents. The obvious symbol of freedom is the United States, and the symbol of happiness and innocence is Disney World. As you know, these attacks have taken place in various "free" countries over the course of the last five or six months, and now, the "midnight hour" is apparently at hand."

"But I still don't get what they want!" Joe was frustrated.

"World dominance; the ability to shake the core of freedom to its very roots. They have money, Joe, and access to all sorts of medical facilities. There has always been the distant, although always viable threat, of bio-terrorism. We just got a small taste of it with Meningitis. Don't you see? They attacked the homeland from within, at the same time attacking us from the outside. Remember the code from the High Schools: SOMEDAY- Someday, Joe, this organization will "be"- and today, son, that's just their plan."

"Are they people from the Middle East?" Joe had always been aware of the tensions in that area of the world, but never had it seemed like such a plausible threat until this very moment.

Fenton looked sadly at Joe. "Yes, son, at least in part. However, they're from all over the world, including, disgustingly enough, Western countries. They are people with an agenda to pursue. Some may have religious reasons, others philosophical—the main reason, I've always found, comes down to economics. If you can destroy free trade and ideals, then you must inherently form unions with those nations who can then dominate the destroyed or fearful countries through terror."

"Who's the Prince?" Joe's voice was shaking now.

"Who isn't he?" Fenton responded. "We don't know. With luck and the Grace of God, we may find out. It doesn't really matter, though. Where there's one man to be the "current" Prince, there are dozens to follow in his footsteps. We have to break down these cells, these "secret chambers." We will. I just hope we can do it on time." He looked nervously at the castle.

Joe was barely breathing. Finally, he looked up. "Dad? This group almost wanted to claim responsibility for this, didn't they? That's why they had this whole charade going with Cinderella and all. I just …." He paused. "Dad, we need to try and go there. Now."

It was 11:30.

Joe almost jumped as loud music began playing. He noticed the lights darken, as figures in white and colored lights came strolling happily down Main Street, U.S.A. It took him a second to recover. Joe couldn't help but to think to himself how cruel life could be—he could practically see Fate, waiting in the wings to take its 'justified' place in the universe, while all the while these innocent people gazed happily about, blissfully unaware of how soon their lives would be taken. It wasn't fair.

All around him, children laughed and played, parents smiled, and Magic Figures danced playfully. Simultaneously, he knew that behind the scenes, the national guard, law enforcement agents from the national and state level, and top secret agents were lurking around, trying to stop what would be the world's greatest terrorist attack. Joe was struck by the dichotomy, and he realized how you just never knew what was real and what was, indeed, magic behind the scenes.

The Castle had obviously been closed off, although the parade worked its way by it, and still was a charming spectacle. As Joe started getting closer to the Castle, followed by his father and quite a few agents, he began running. Whatever was in there wasn't good, and he knew he had to find out.

"Joe! Wait!" Joe heard his father's voice screaming for him in the background. He didn't care. As he came to the castle entrance, he felt himself being grabbed and pulled back. He fought against his aggressor, who held onto him tightly. Finally, Joe stopped struggling. He simply couldn't break free.

Soon, he felt himself released and facing a man in a military uniform. "You can't go up there- specialists are working on this. I know you're Fenton Hardy's son, and I know you want to help, but you can't. I'm sorry."

Joe was about to argue and continue the short distance to the Castle when, all at once, he heard loud music booming across the park. Clearly, it was coming from the Castle, for it was so loud, Joe thought he'd go deaf. It seemed like – no, it WAS—the theme song from Cinderella. Joe shook his head, trying to clear it. WHAT was going on? All at once, the lights surrounding the castle went off. Joe heard some screams in the distance, followed moments later by a chorus of "OOOH's" and "AAHHH's" as a huge spotlight descended from somewhere right to the front of the Castle, which, moments ago, lay dark and vacant. Joe, along with the officials behind him, looked up to see what the big cause of attention was.

At once, Joe felt his breath escape him, and felt dizzy and weak. There, right before his eyes and the eyes of the international community and the general spectators at the park, sat Cinderella, looking as beautiful as anyone could imagine. Only Joe knew in an instant that this was no ordinary Cinderella. There was Vanessa Bender, sitting on some sort of chair. Joe could tell at once by the tiniest of red buttons lighting from beneath the chair that somehow, Vanessa was literally sitting on a bomb….


	23. Chapter 23

_The reviews have been great! Thank you!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 23

Vanessa! Joe could barely believe his eyes. While the innocent spectators were enjoying what seemed to them to be a great show, with the presence of Cinderella as one of its final acts, Joe was painfully aware that there was no magic spell that was making Vanessa appear.

A bomb! How on earth was he going to be able to get to it? And where, exactly, had Vanessa come from? Joe felt his heart beating wildly in his chest as he looked for some way to help her. Instinctively, he began to run towards her, breaking free of the gaze of the officer who had just held him back. He HAD to do something. As Joe ran, he felt images of his life flash before his eyes, paralleling the seconds that were ticking away on the bombs. Joe had no plan; he didn't need one. A person could plan for an event of this magnitude all of his life, but once he was in it, everything always seemed to change, and he was generally left to go on gut instinct alone. Joe had tried to explain this to Frank so many times, but Frank wasn't here now. To Joe, no one was really there at all, except for him and Vanessa. He would be certain that she'd make it through—somehow.

Joe leaped over finely manicured bushes and across stairwells. From the corner of his eye, he saw officers and officials working around the perimeter of the Castle, and within the Castle, itself. There was so much commotion, so much going on, but everything seemed to happen in slow motion for him. Just when Joe was within about 400 feet of Vanessa, he felt himself tackled once again.

"W…What are you doing? Let me go!!" Joe sputtered his words, fighting with all his strength against his unknown assailant.

This time, Joe found himself whirled around and staring face to face with several officials, who did NOT look happy at his presence. Still, he managed, "Look—my girlfriend is there. SHE's Cinderella. Can't you see that? There's a bomb under her chair. We don't have much time! You have to help me – do something!" Joe had never felt so frustrated in his entire life. How could you convince someone that your very life and future happiness was on the line? Love was a difficult concept in and of itself- but to try and explain your love for a person to a random stranger was pretty much futile. Still, Joe was determined not to give up.

"Listen! Be quiet! Listen to me!" Joe was staring into the face of a very angry official. Looking at his uniform, Joe groaned- the CIA. This was going to be almost impossible.

"But…"

"No! Listen, Joe Hardy, I know you. Don't you think we know there's a bomb? Apparently, Ms. Bender has been here for a bit, because some sort of trap door, or loose segment of the floor in front of the Castle, was set to go off at a specific time with her presence. So- she's here now. We also managed to disengage several rather large bombs within the past 15 minutes. However,…."

"We have to save her! Don't you understand? Let me go!!" Joe struggled furiously against the grip of the officer.

"Mr. Hardy!" The agent bellowed. For a moment, Joe was shocked into silence. The voice continued. "We want to save Ms. Bender, but you need to allow us room to work. If you're not behaving yourself, we will remove you- immediately. Quite frankly, Ms. Bender is the least of our concerns. We have exactly 17 minutes to finish disarming any bombs we can find, and pray to God that we get them all. If we fail, Ms. Bender will be among thousands lost. So, unless you have any experience disarming bombs, stay away. These guys are NOT fooling around."

Joe was shocked. He could see Vanessa in the distance, and he felt like hyperventilating. He had to see her- he simply had to. Although he rationally knew how many lives were at stake, the one that mattered the most to him was in the center of it all. Suddenly, he turned to the agent and tried to speak rationally. "Look, can I at least go to her? Can I help? Let me do something. Please." Normally, Joe didn't beg or plead for anything. This time, it was all he had.

"No," the officer answered, annoyed. "Stay here. Assist if you're asked. Look. Look, Joe Hardy, at the faces of the crowd out there. Can't you see how transfixed they are? The beautiful Cinderella, the light show, the damned music- they have no idea what's happening. If you- or we- try to grab her now, they'll be panic. And the last thing we need right now is to have all those people- those naïve, unthinking people- running around, setting off bombs, causing trouble, and confusing an already horrible situation. It's bad enough that we even have these people here—and, although we've closed off the Castle, the station behind it is open. We can't close off lavatory's and infirmaries, although believe me, we're trying to do that as we speak. It's already causing some major panic on that side. Therefore, not only do we have to diffuse and find any bombs, but we have to keep the panicked crowd away from the unsuspecting one. Do you see the problem?" He was angry.

Joe panicked, and looked at his watch. There were sixteen minutes left. "Yeah, I see the problem." He had absolutely no idea what to do, as he glanced longingly at Vanessa. He desperately wanted to see her, and he ached to hold her.

Again, the agent spoke. "In two minutes, a diversion will be created by a small laser show run by the FBI with Disney officials. To the audience, it will look like a brief malfunction. It will give us enough time to, in the dark, grab Vanessa Bender and disarm that bomb behind the scenes. We have to hurry. Now please—be quiet! And do NOT get in the way." He was gone in seconds.

Joe continued to stare at Vanessa. One wrong move and he knew full well that the bomb on Vanessa's chair could inadvertently be activated. He choked back tears and waited. This would be the longest two minutes of his life...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxx

Callie Shaw, meanwhile, found herself rudely and suddenly awakened by Iola Morton. She had no idea how long she had been resting in the infirmary. A quick glance at her watch told her it had been under a half an hour. He body felt like lead, and she was even more tired now than before she had closed her eyes. Also, she began to feel the all too familiar throbbing in the back of her head, and she closed her eyes tightly to try and fight back the pain. This was beginning to get unbearable. Suddenly, she was aware of loud noises and commotion coming from the outside, and as she glanced around, she saw looks of panic on the faces of many. Sitting up weakly, she looked at Iola. "What's going on?" she asked, softly.

Iola looked panicked, and Callie was now alert. Ignoring her own discomfort and fatigue, she repeated the question. "Iola? What's the matter? What's going on? Is this why you woke me up?"

It took Iola a minute, but she finally responded. Looking at Callie in confusion and dread, she replied, "Cal! Something's going on—something big! They're clearing out this place. Look! Right outside—by the Castle. They're not letting anyone go over there. I wonder what's going on? Whatever it is, I don't think it's good. I couldn't swear to it, but I think I saw a lot of people with "FBI" and stuff like that on their jackets." She looked at Callie fearfully. "I think we ought to get out of here!"

Callie tried to get her bearings. "W... what time is it?" She had already forgotten the quick earlier glance at her watch.

Iola looked at her watch. "I don't know. I've got about 20 to twelve. I guess the light show is still going on. It started a little earlier than I thought that it would. Seriously, Callie, they're actually leading people out of here. We should go."

Callie stood on wobbly legs, and glanced outside. Iola was right. A lot of people were running away from the castle area, and there were guards and officials—a lot of them. Instantly, Callie got a bad feeling. There really WAS something wrong. At once, she saw an official in the doorway. He said quickly, "Girls? We're experiencing some technical difficulties and we're running an emergency testing procedure. Please, don't panic, but we need all people to move as far away from the Castle as possible. It will ensure safety for all."

Iola quickly headed to the door as the agent specified, and Callie followed. However, before she left, she turned to him. "Test? Why would you perform a test now, at this hour? And why are you wearing a uniform that says FBI? Is there something going on?"

Callie didn't miss the look of annoyance on the man's face. He turned to her and said, bluntly, "Ma'am, we need you to move. Now. This is a test—it is not twenty questions. There are dozens of vans and trams ready to take people this close to the Castle away. If you hurry, you can be on one in five minutes. Now MOVE!"

Callie was taken aback, and she was suddenly very aware that this man was lying. She felt a tightness in her chest. All her life, Callie had been pretty good about having accurate instincts, and she knew something bad was going on. She also knew she wanted to find out. But how?

Quickly, she followed Iola outside and grabbed her shoulder. "Iola," she said, forcefully.

"W... what? We better do like the man says, in case, you know, it isn't a test, like you think."

Callie sighed. Her body was sore. Her head was aching again, and she was exhausted. Still, in the back of her mind, although she wasn't aware that the case had been cracked, she couldn't help but to think of Prince Charming and Cinderella, the Castle, and, above all, Vanessa. Maybe this had something to do with the case- in any event, she had to check it out. Turning to her friend, she said, softly, "Iola, I think you should go on the tram. Take it- hurry. Grab a cab and I'll meet you back at the hotel. I think you should- um- call Joe in case he's worried about you. I mean, something like this might be on the news, and he'd want to know that you're all right. I'll meet you later."

Iola looked concerned. "What about you? I can't leave you here. Come with me!"

"No," Callie countered. "I, uh, I think that there are a lot of people who aren't taking this so seriously. Maybe the people around here need some additional help. Let me see what I can do. I'll be fine—really."

Iola looked dubious. "Callie, they can handle this fine without you. Don't try to be a hero."

Callie shook her head, and tried to make her lie sound as honest as possible. "Oh, Iola. I'm feeling a lot better. Besides, look at all these kids. They'll need help getting organized. Seriously, go home. I'll be fine. I probably won't be at all late back to the room. Please, go. Call Joe. Call Frank. Whatever. Okay?"

Iola sighed. She didn't believe Callie for a minute, but to be honest, she really was scared, and Callie WAS self- sufficient and independent, and should be okay. "Okay, I'll go. Don't be late. I'll wait up." Iola impulsively gave Callie a hug, and then headed off toward the tram.

Tears fell from her eyes. Iola couldn't help but to think to herself that she was wrong to leave Callie behind, and to hate herself for being so scared. She gazed at the stars above and wished that she could be the person she had been a year ago, before her personal hell had begun. But, she knew that person no longer existed, the person who would risk life and limb to help a friend, never thinking of her own safety. Iola had never thought so poorly of herself in her entire life. As she boarded the tram, she knew she had left a part of herself right then at Disney World, and she would never get it back. Wiping tears from her eyes, she wept for her lost innocence, and for the fact that she was weeping at all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooooooooooo

Callie, left by herself, was now in a dilemma. She wanted to check things out, but how? Guards, officials, and agents were all around her. _Some test_, she thought wryly to herself. She looked at her Watch- 11:45. All at once, it was as though her problem had been magically solved by the Magic Kingdom, itself. There was a sudden, momentary blackout, followed by the strangest set of laser lights Callie thought she had ever seen. Knowing she couldn't miss this opportunity to act, she crept stealthily toward the Castle's back entrance.

The laser lights created a surreal picture of reality. The constant blinking was reminiscent of disco lights, which made everything go in slow motion, and accentuated every movement. Callie gasped in horror and covered her face with her hands.

_Blink._ She saw agents moving. _Blink._ She saw wires and metal parts. Bombs? _Blink_. There were dogs sniffing everywhere. _Blink. _Cinderella. No- My God! It was Vanessa Bender! _Blink_. Joe Hardy, staring utterly transfixed and in horror at this nightmare unfolding right in front of him. _Blink Blink. Blink Blink. Blink. _It was too fast, too fast. Was it real? What was happening? A sudden burst of light! And then—complete and total darkness…


	24. Chapter 24

As always, a HUGE "thank you" for your reviews!! They are VERY much appreciated.

Classified Secrets

Chapter 24

After a few minutes, the laser light distraction had served its purpose. Although the lights had momentarily gone out, they were now back again in full force. To the crowds waiting in the front of the Castle, it simply looked like a temporary malfunction, which was immediately fixed. They now watched as the Parade of Lights worked its way throughout Main Street, USA, and they waited in anxious anticipation for the final fireworks display at midnight.

To the special agents, however, and to Joe Hardy and Callie Shaw, the brief blackout and supposed "problem" laser display held an altogether different reality. As agents feverishly worked to locate and to disarm bombs, several agents had cautiously but quickly grabbed Vanessa Bender, and pulled her back into the Castle entrance, where she was out of view from the crowd.

As the agents worked on figuring out how to stop the ticking seconds, they fought back fear at the intricacy of this setup. The bomb wired to Vanessa's chair looked complicated, indeed. Vanessa tried to stop herself from shaking, but found that she couldn't. She was taking in slow, languorous breaths, trying to keep her composure. Still, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and cried silently to herself. She felt all of these strangers around her, and knew that something terrible was happening. She knew, also, that she could die any minute, and she had never been so close to her own mortality. Silently she prayed and asked for God's guidance in accepting her fate, whatever it was meant to be. She had learned a long time ago that asking God for favors didn't generally help matters. Rather, since things happened as they were undoubtedly meant to anyway, she had resigned that all she would ever do would be to ask for His help in accepting whatever was meant to be.

Vanessa felt tears stream down her face. She thought of her mother, who didn't even know she was gone. What would she say? Since Vanessa's own father had died when she was just a child, her mother would be all alone. Vanessa felt her lips quiver thinking about that. And what about her friends? Would they miss her? Would they make fun of her stupidity, and say the insensitive things people sometimes did when grieving, like "Well, she should have known better," or, even worse, "She's better off now." That one always disturbed her. How was anyone ever better off dead than alive? After all, where there was life, there was hope. _Well_, Vanessa thought shakily, _hope was running out now._

She started crying harder. Although people around her were telling her to be calm, Vanessa couldn't hold back any longer. Sobbing, she finally thought of Joe. She wished she could tell him that she loved him. She prayed that he'd be okay without her, and that he wouldn't feel guilty or responsible for her own stupid decision to come here. All she wanted was for him to be happy, and if he could do that alone, then that is what she wished for him. "Joe," she whispered, trembling, to herself.

"I'm here. I'm here, baby."

Vanessa dared to open her eyes. There, right in front of her, with tears in his eyes, was Joe Hardy. As men worked desperately around her, all she saw was Joe, who was so close, but not close enough yet to touch her.

"Oh, Joe," she sobbed. "I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I... I'm scared. Oh, God."

"I know, I know." Joe felt his heart beating wildly. He wanted desperately to get to her, but he couldn't. He needed to let the men work. Still, he'd be damned if he was going to wait out of sight. He needed to do something, if only to comfort her. "It's okay, Van. It's going to be okay." He felt his own tears slip down his cheeks, and he quickly wiped them aside. _Great_, he thought, angry at himself. _I'm supposed to be the strong one, and I'm letting her down._

"J… Joe.." Vanessa stammered, her arms still tied to her sides. "If anything should happen to me…"

"No! Don't Vanessa. Shh! You'll be okay." Joe hoped that his words sounded more convincing than what he actually felt.

"Listen, Joe. Promise me that you'll know it's not your fault. I... I want you to be happy. No matter what, I …"

"Quick!" Joe and Vanessa stared at the man who had just shouted out loud. He was holding a rather large bomb in his arms, and his eyes showed the panic he was feeling. "We can't disarm this! We have to get it out to the back of the castle, NOW, and hope it's abandoned!" He was sweating profusely. "Because this thing is gonna blow!"

It was 11:55.

The next five minutes were unbearable, and time seemed to stand still. Life flashed by in a series of flashbulb moments.

One flash-- agents running, clearing any areas they could, moving back crowds of people.

Another flash-- the bomb being carried to a truck, agents clearing the roadways, trying to get the bomb as far away from the Castle and the crowds as possible.

Flash three-- Joe running to Vanessa, grabbing her from the chair to which she had been tied, and forcing her to the floor, covering her body with his own to protect her.

Flash four-- Fenton Hardy, and law enforcement officials no longer caring about causing a panic, stopping the parade, and, in military fashion, pushing back the crowds on the other side of the Castle.

Flash five-- Callie Shaw, having nowhere to hide, no protection from the scores of screaming people, being pushed back into the crowd, who began to trample and crush each other in panic.

Flash six- 12:00. Midnight- screams, panic, utter chaos.

A HUGE explosion.

Silence.


	25. Chapter 25

Thanks as always for the reviews! I was smart for once and last night, when I had some free time, I edited all of the remaining chapters so that I can definitely get the rest up on a daily basis to finish the story. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story, as I enjoy yours!

Classified Secrets

Chapter 25

Sometimes, after something utterly horrific occurs, there are no words in the language to describe what it looks like, what it _feels _like. Often, people expect there to be sobbing, screaming, and madness, but far more often, there is nothing—a sort of emptiness—a kind of despair that can only be thought of as a devastatingly silent scream. Such was the case at Disney World on that 20th of May, an otherwise perfectly normal day on an idle spring evening.

Joe must have blacked out for a few moments, because when he came to, that absolute stillness was the first thing that caught his attention. He blinked his eyes several times, and coughed repeatedly. On top of him were pieces of plastic and wood, fixtures, and blue and white ornaments. Pushing himself back, the first thing he noticed on the ground was a shattered mirror, which had once held the portrait of Cinderella. It looked eerily up at him, as if asking him, _"Wasn't I supposed to live happily ever after?" _Joe had to look away. The second thing he noticed was by far more important. He noticed Cinderella, herself—Vanessa Bender. She was lying on the ground, head buried in her arms. She wasn't moving. In a panic, Joe immediately fell to his knees beside her, and, tenderly, pushed back the hair from her face. "Vanessa," he whispered, hands trembling, as he gently turned her over to face him.

After a few moments, Vanessa began to stir. Those moments seemed to last an eternity to Joe. Finally, she opened her eyes. Within seconds, she sat up and clung to Joe tightly, as if her life depended on him. At that moment, Joe realized how much _his _life depended on her. Holding her tightly, he stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth. After what seemed like a long time in each other's arms, Vanessa finally pulled back.

"Oh, Joe," she sobbed softly to him, "What… happened?!" She wanted to touch him, to feel his arms around her as protection, but she couldn't. The scene behind them was too overwhelming.

Joe forced himself to stand up, and helped Vanessa to her feet. Instantly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held onto her tightly. He, like Vanessa, was overwhelmed by emotions. He had so much to say to her, but no words were forthcoming. He was shocked at the scene before him.

Somehow, the Castle was still standing, but its interior was a disaster. Windows were blown out, there was a giant hole in the roof, and the structure looked to be wobbly at best. All around him, agents who were not hurt were beginning to move, slowly and steadily. At once, the silence that that been pre-dominant over the last few moments came crashing down. First, Joe heard the sirens. Then, he heard the screams. At once, it looked like Hell had literally broken loose.

Grabbing Vanessa by the hand, Joe glanced out the front of the castle. People were lying on the ground, little children were walking aimlessly, crying for their parents. But, to Joe's utter amazement, the casualties really didn't look that bad. Apparently, these law enforcement agents had done their job. Most of the people were crying and screaming, but in shock and amazement, even, over horror. With the exception of a handful of people who had been unfortunate enough to be too close to the Castle walls, most people were busy either running or being escorted by officers very quickly in the opposite direction of the Castle.

Vanessa looked up, tears streaming from her eyes, as she heard the loud roar of helicopters flying overhead, their flashlights shining down. They looked to her like little lost butterflies, struggling to find a home in autumn. There were so many. Her only repose was that she instantly recognized the "USA" logos on the front, and she knew they were there to help. Whatever had just happened, and at this point Vanessa truly had no idea what that was, she knew that people were coming to protect her. It was a comforting feeling.

Suddenly, she was aware of Joe's hand pressing tightly into hers. "Joe?" she choked out. "What's the matter? I think we'll be okay."

Joe could only shake his head in horror, as he turned around and walked slowly with Vanessa to the back of the Castle, the area into which the bomb had been taken in those final, gut-wrenching minutes before the explosion had occurred. "My God," was all he could manage.

Here, the damage was beyond recognition. By pure luck and a lot of quick thinking, the majority of the area had been cleared of tourists before the explosion had occurred. However, not all of it had. This had been the one area that the officials had saved for last, because of the infirmary, bathrooms, and lost and found sections. Thus, right when the bomb had gone off, there were still a substantial number of people – probably well over 100- who were caught in the devastating position of being trapped between the Castle, where the bomb had originated, and its destination. The whole area in between looked scorched, and the perfectly manicured trees and benches, stores and parks, now looked like roasted marshmallows after a fire. Although there were plenty of ambulances already on the scene, cries of agony and grief hung in the air. Joe had to turn back. He had just looked Despair in the face, and it had won.

Slowly, he sank to his knees, overwhelmed by everything. Vanessa kneeled beside him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. What could you say at a time like this? Sometimes, the deepest connections were unspoken.

Then, as if he had been suddenly hit with lightening, Joe stood up, causing Vanessa inadvertently to fall back. Realizing what he'd done, he instantly reached down for her and pulled her up, enveloping her in a hug.

"What's wrong?" she asked, full of concern.

"Dad! I have to find him!" In all of the confusion and horror, he had almost forgotten that his father was there, right in the center of the action. Joe felt his heart sink. He recalled his father's words to him in the car as they had traveled there not so long ago. _I love you, son. _Eyes burning with unshed tears, Joe mentally replied, _I love you too, Dad. _He prayed for the chance to tell him that in person.

All at once, as though Fate had intervened, Joe whirled around and found himself looking at his father, who now stood, shaking his head at something, in the distance on the side of the Castle that had been hit the hardest. Apparently he, too, was overwhelmed by the scene before him.

Turning to Vanessa, he was about to tell her that he needed to see his father, quickly. However, as he looked into her eyes, he instantly saw that she already knew that. Hugging her tightly once again, he turned around and ran as quickly as he could towards his father.

Fenton heard footsteps behind him, and turned around. Years of investigations made it a gut instinct to be aware of his surroundings, however confusing they might be. He sighed in the greatest relief he had ever felt when he caught sight of Joe. He thought—even now to recall it was devastating—that he had lost him. Joe had been so close to the Castle- so very close. So many people weren't going to make it. At once, shoving those thoughts in the back of his mind, he forgot he was a detective and instantly took on his most important job- that of a father. He instantly wrapped his arms around his son and held him tightly. Joe buried his face in his father's shoulder. After a few moments, Joe broke free of his father's grasp. Pulling back, he met his father's eyes, which were red-rimmed and glassy.

"D... Dad…" he stammered.

"I know." He hugged Joe again, and the father and son team looked at the atrocity in front of them with sadness and shock.

"We should've stopped this. I should've seen this coming so much sooner. I'm so sorry." Joe choked out his last words.

Fenton turned to him with pity in his eyes. "Joe? Don't you see what you DID do? My God! There were 12 bombs- 12 Joe- that makes sense, doesn't it?- that were placed around the Castle. The midnight hour really was at hand. Thanks to you and your brother, 11 of those bombs were disarmed and dismantled. For the short time that we had, you managed to save thousands of lives- thousands, son. Think about that. These people--" he glanced at the killed and injured- "These poor people are just a fragment of what could have happened. And, thanks to your quick thinking, many ambulances were already here as well as medical personnel and federal and local officers. As you can see, national help has come in the form of medical helicopters. You did all you could." He looked into his son's eyes. "I'm proud of you."

Joe was about to respond when Vanessa came over. A sense of tremendous relief washed over him. His father and the girl he loved were okay, and had somehow survived this nightmare. It was then that it hit him. Gasping in quickly, he bit his lip. "Dad! Iola! She's here, somewhere!"

"And so's Callie," Fenton added, dread washing over him. He tried not to panic. "Okay. Joe. Hold on a second. Let me call your brother. If he's heard from Callie or Iola, he'll let us know." Fenton tried Frank's hotel room, where Frank had promised to remain to help make phone calls. There was no answer. He tried Frank's cell phone. Again, no one answered.

He looked at Joe, and he actually felt the color drain from his face. "Joe," he said softly. "Your brother's not answering. That means--"

"Oh, no!" Joe breathed. "HE could be here!" Joe tried not to hyperventilate, but it wasn't easy.

"Yes," Fenton managed to reply.

In total horror, Joe could only glance at the scene unfolding before him. He heard the sirens and the screams; he saw the castle, a shadow of its former self; he heard crying in the distance. And he knew—somewhere, in that "other" world-- was Frank, Iola, and Callie. And they needed him.

He looked at Vanessa and at his father. They each had the same thought. Quickly the three squeezed hands, and then they walked forward, and descended into Hell.


	26. Chapter 26

_T__hank you to Missme113 and Tifal for your reviews on the last chapter! As promised, in a timely fashion_...

Classified Secrets

Chapter 26

Joe, Vanessa, and Fenton separated as they made their way through the horrific scene that befell their eyes. They agreed to meet in half an hour in the Castle's back entrance, to keep track of one another.

Joe Hardy could barely hold in his emotions as he treaded, slowly, through the devastated area of the theme park. There were so many sirens, and so much screaming. Hell, itself, could not parallel these cries of hopelessness and despair. The wounded were being tended to as best they could by all of the emergency personnel on hand. Still, despite this, people were lying all over—some were injured, some were in shock. No matter what people were there, though, they all shared the same expression of utter disbelief and shock. This was Disney World. This was the United States. Things like this were not supposed to happen here. Joe inadvertently thought back to the broken mirror that he had first seen when he had come to after the explosion. He couldn't help but to realize how innocence had been shattered as well, and he wondered if there was a chance of ever getting it back.

Joe's lips quivered as he fought back the grief that he couldn't have stopped this. He knew his father was right—things could have been a lot worse. Still, somehow, his gut instinct told him that he should have done much more. He didn't know if he could deal with this. Joe found himself struggling not to cry. Where was Frank? Where was Iola? Where was Callie? God, if they were somehow in the area-- he shuddered at the thought that was so horrific he couldn't even fathom it.

At once, Joe looked past the charred bushes and blackened skies to a large group of people who were either lying down or running around in confusion. The medical personnel had apparently not reached them yet. At once, Joe began to head towards the area as quickly as he could. Even if these were not the people whom he loved, they needed help—and he had to do something. Joe spent the next 15 minutes guiding lost people to benches, offering comfort, and trying to help others find their family members and loved ones. Again, he became overwhelmed by the amount of people who still needed help, the people whom he hadn't even seen yet. Raising a trembling hand slowly to his temple, Joe felt himself on the cusp of losing control. Part of him wanted to scream, to cry, to panic. The other part worked in fear, longing and needing to find those whom he loved, and yet dreading finding a scene that would be incomprehensible to him. He took a moment to wipe back the tears that had now become a steady but slow trickle down his face, and to think of what to do next.

It was at that moment that he saw a group of sobbing people in the distance who looked like they needed some assistance. Knowing that the emergency units would soon follow, Joe made his way to the area. He saw little children clinging to their parents. He saw a lot of people, some moving and some not. He was about to turn away when he noticed a young blonde woman off to the side, half-hidden by the bushes. Joe's heart dropped from his chest as he noticed the outfit. His breath escaped him as he recognized Callie Shaw. And it didn't look good.

Weaving his way through the maddened and confused crowd, Joe fell to his knees beside Callie. She had a bruise across the right side of her forehead, but other than that, he could see no visible signs of blood or injury. Her eyes were closed, and she was clearly unconscious. Swallowing hard, Joe grabbed Callie's wrist to check for a pulse. It was weak and inconsistent, but there. Joe let out a breath that he hadn't realized until that moment he'd been holding.

"Callie," he said gently to her, holding back his worst fears. "Come on, Cal. Wake up." Gingerly, he pushed the hair from her forehead and gently touched her face. Callie Shaw, whom he had wasted so much time blaming, and had treated so badly, looked so fragile and defenseless. Joe felt ashamed, and horribly guilty. Above all, he was frightened. Callie was thus far unresponsive, and she needed help.

He tried again, louder than last time, still cupping her face in his hands. "Please, Callie. Wake up. I'll help you." Joe was losing control. He needed to help her- he _needed _to. He owed her that, at the very least. As Joe was about to cry for help, Callie weakly stirred. Joe held his breath. Her eyes struggled to open, and fluttered several times. Finally, she met his eyes, although she seemed a bit out of focus and somewhat incoherent. Joe gave her a few minutes to adjust to him, all the while holding her hand to his chest. Maybe if she wouldn't believe his words, or wake to them, she'd feel his efforts, and know he needed her to pull through.

"Callie," he whispered gently. Through all the chaos and turmoil around them, right now Joe only saw Callie. "Are you hurt? Help will be here soon. Tell me how to help you."

Callie's breathing was shallow, but she struggled to focus on Joe. "I... I'm okay. My… head… hurts." For Callie, this pain was unbearable. It felt like a thousand lightning bolts flashing in front of her eyes.

Joe was instantly worried. It didn't look like Callie had sustained any visible injuries, other than a bruise. Still, he knew that sometimes concussions and the like could be hidden. "Callie—try not to move. I'm going for help." Joe squeezed her hand, and was about to leave when he heard her whimper softly, "Please don't leave me."

Joe turned back to Callie, who was covering her eyes with her hand. He was stunned into silence by the tone in Callie's voice—rarely had he ever heard such fear, pure and unadulterated. Her words didn't matter- her tone of voice did. Instantly, he kneeled beside her again. "Cal…"

Weakly, she looked up at him. "H... Help me up." Her words were a little slurred, and she looked dizzy. Joe wanted to insist that she not move, but somehow, he couldn't deny her a wish in this land of hopelessness.

Fighting back his emotions and the swelling in his throat, he wrapped his arms around Callie, helping her to sit up. Without thinking, he pulled her to him, and cradled her in his arms. He felt Callie wince, obviously in pain, and held her tighter.

Callie just closed her eyes and rested against Joe's chest. It was so easy to pretend that this was Frank, holding her and protecting her. And, in a sense, Joe became his brother in that instant, instinctively wanting to make Callie feel better. All of Frank's words about Callie came rushing into his mind. "_And just as I'd protect you and love you, Joe, I feel the same about her… I REALLY, TRULY, love her." _He knew he had to make Frank proud of him, wherever Frank was.

"You'll be okay," he whispered gently to her. "I promise."

He felt her nod slowly against him. "Mmm Hmm. I'll be okay." Slowly, she pulled back from Joe and looked up at him. His arms were still around her, steadying her, but she was beginning to get her bearings. Her head ached, but the flashes of light were gone. Her back also throbbed and her sides hurt, but she knew this was from the forces of the blast, and the crowds crushing her. The fact that she could even move made her realize that nothing was broken. "Joe," she managed, weakly, "Is Vanessa..."

"She's okay, thank God. So's my dad." He looked at Callie sorrowfully. "I'm just worried about Iola, and Frank, and you, too. I had no idea what happened." He tried to keep his voice from breaking. "I'm so sorry, Callie."

Callie met Joe's gaze, and told him at once, "Joe-- Iola's okay. I sent her back to the hotel BEFORE the bomb blast. I... I'm sure she's there. As for Frank, he's probably at the hotel."

Joe, weak with relief at Callie's words, instinctively hugged her. She moaned. "I'm sorry!" he gasped, horrified.

Callie asked Joe to help her up. He stood slowly, and then pulled her up next to him, catching her as she almost fell. She clung to him for a moment, overcome with weakness and soreness. "Joe," she continued, trembling, "I don't even know what this case is about. But let's go and check on your brother at the hotel, and you can fill me in."

Joe slipped an arm around Callie's shoulders and helped her to walk steadily through the darkness around them. "No way, Callie. I'm taking you and Vanessa to the hospital to get checked out. I'll have my dad call Iola and check on Frank." Together, Callie and Joe worked their way steadily to the Castle to reunite with the others. Joe, having so much to say and no words to express how he felt, simply gave Callie a kiss on the cheek before meeting with the others.

Callie just smiled.


	27. Chapter 27

_Thanks so much for your amazing feedback It is very much appreciated. FYI- THERE IS A WARNING IN THIS CHAPTER. We learn in this chapter that Callie __may__ have more serious issues than meets the eye. This subplot is not developed here, but in the next story. In no way was it meant to trivialize a serious problem; rather, it was meant to explore in a realistic fashion the question of WHAT IF... I hope that my decision to explore a controversial topic does not dissuade anyone from reading (either finishing this story OR reading the next one). I CAN tell you that ya'll know I really like Callie... so I wouldn't worry that everything is going to work out. As always, I appreciate your time!_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 27

Five Hours Later- 6:30 a.m.

"Miss Shaw?"

Callie was in an observation room, having undergone a general exam and routine CAT scans. She felt like she would fall asleep on the spot. Nonetheless, she looked at the doctor, and tried to smile. It had been an incredible evening.

The doctor sat next to her. "Miss Shaw- Callie. Well, part of your diagnosis is pretty clear. You need a lot of sleep! That's what they pay us the big bucks for- to diagnose these things." Callie shook her head in disbelief. This doctor was kind and, for his older age, still sympathetic to his patients. She liked him.

"Thanks," she feebly responded.

"You probably feel like a Mac truck ran over you. The good news is that you're not at all seriously hurt. You have some deep bruising that will take a while to heal, but other than that, nothing. You're very fortunate. A lot of people tonight-- well, they weren't so lucky." Callie looked up and noticed the expression in his eyes. She felt a little strange.

"Yes, I know. Can I go now? I appreciate your help."

Callie knew that Vanessa had been in the hospital and had checked out fine. Joe was also examined, as was Fenton, and they were okay, too. And, in stroke of utter luck, when Joe had gone to check in, they had almost made a mistake with his check -in since Frank Hardy, of that same address in New York, was also registered at the hospital. Callie knew he was okay, although she still had to get the details. She was very anxious to see him, and then to sleep as well. She wanted this to be over with, and couldn't figure out the delay.

"Actually, Callie, I'd like to talk with you about something."

Callie didn't like the sound of the doctor's voice, but was too upset to try and figure it out, so she just replied, "Okay."

"Callie, we ran scans of your body to determine if there were internal injuries, since you were in pain. We also ran scans of your head, since there was a deep bruise there as well, and sometimes there can be internal injuries there, too."

"Uh huh." Callie didn't know what to say.

"Have you suffered from headaches recently?"

Callie's eyes widened. How could he know that? "Yes, I have."

"Have they been severe, in the migraine category?"

"Yes, they're very bad." Callie took a deep breath. What was going on?

The doctor looked grim. "Where are your headaches most prevalent?"

"I don't understand."

"I'm guessing they're the worst in the back of your head, towards the right side, and occasionally in that temple area?"

Callie froze. The doctor looked at her, and went on, gently.

"How tall are you, honey, and how much do you weigh?"

Callie was getting frightened, and felt tears form in her eyes. She didn't know why.

"I… I'm 5'5", and about 120- 125, I guess. W... why?"

The doctor gently took her hand. "Honey, stand on the scale over here. You don't look like you're 125 pounds. Are you sure the weight range you gave me is your normal range?"

Callie nodded, weakly. She was guided to the scale and helped up. The doctor told her to look at the numbers. "Can you read this?" he asked. Callie, unfamiliar with official medical scales, just shook her head. "You weigh, as we speak, 108.5 pounds."

Callie nervously brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh. I've had a hard time lately, and I haven't eaten right."

"Are you tired and weak often?"

Callie whispered, "Yes."

"Sit down." He led Callie to the chair in the room. "Honey, when we did the scan of your head, we found a mass in the back area of your head. Here- let me show you." He took Callie's hand and placed it on the back of her head. Vaguely, she could feel a hardness. She began to tremble.

"Callie, something is definitely there. You have a tumor of some sort. Now, don't panic. This could very well be benign. However, based on your symptoms—tiredness, weakness, severe headaches, weight loss—this could also be – other things. You need follow through on this. When you return to your home, you have to check this out."

Callie felt the breath sucked out of her, and she started to cry in terror. "W... what other things?" she sobbed.

The doctor looked uncomfortable. "Well, we don't like to speculate…"

"What?!" she sobbed, again.

"Honey," he said gently, taking her hand. "You could have …. cancer."

11 Hours after-5:30 p.m.

Frank Hardy had just finished listening to his father and brother tell him all about the case and what had transpired in Disney World. He knew that his dad and law enforcement agents were continuing to hunt down this terrorist group, and right now they were working on a lot of leads. He was shocked at hearing the course of events.

Right now, though, he felt tired and weak, but 100 better than he had felt the night before. The doctor had said that Frank had developed a very serious infection after his operation. If left untreated, it could have killed him. He had been given a ton of antibiotics, and now he felt no real pain, even if he did feel a bit dopey. As he listened to Joe and his dad, he was amazed and saddened. He somehow also felt as if he was floating on a cloud. It was a ridiculous feeling.

Frank was told that he had to stay in the hospital for two more days for observation, at which point it would be okay for him to return to Bayport. He was under strict orders to take it easy and to rest in bed. However, he thought to himself, that gave him just enough time to catch up on missed schoolwork at home, right before the end of the year. He'd still be able to return to school for the last two weeks, and graduation shouldn't be a problem. He closed his eyes for a moment. IF he was lucky, he'd also be able to make the prom in just under a week. He wanted to go, and to celebrate his time with his friends. More importantly, he wanted to go with Callie. He knew how much it meant to her, and he would do anything to make her happy. He couldn't wait to see her. He smiled at the thought.

"Um, Frank?" Joe's voice floated through his mind. He watched as his father and brother laughed at him and his obviously incoherent reactions to their stories. He had to admit that this medicine, whatever it was, was powerful stuff. Concentration was difficult at the moment.

"Huh?"

Joe walked to his bed. "Frank, what happened last night was- horrific. We have to promise to help dad on his quest to catch these maniacs. Thank God we were able to do what we did. Let's just learn to appreciate how precious life is, and how quickly it can be taken away. I'll see you later. I have some business of my own to take care of." With that, he leaned over and kissed his brother's head. "I love you, Frank."

Fenton stared after his son and his display of affection. He turned to Frank. "He's right, you know."

"I know." Frank smiled.

Joe, meanwhile, knew he had at least two conversations that he still had to have. Taking a moment to thank God for his blessings, he took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy…


	28. Chapter 28

_This is the last chapter of the story. It's a bit long, so please bear with it! I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you all so much for all of the support throughout the writing of this. It made all the difference in the world! I also have to apologize to my fellow authors upon whose stories I have not posted consistently. I have been going through a lot here, and it really came to a head last week. I hope things will be resolved soon and that I can post soon on your amazing stories!_

_**---Cheryl**_

_**P.S.-- I'll try to get the next story, which continues on this one, up within the week. It's called "Where Troubles Melt." Hope you continue to read on! :)**_

Classified Secrets

Chapter 28

**A little over a week later…**

Part 1

Joe Hardy took a deep breath and checked his appearance in the mirror one last time before heading out of his car. He couldn't believe that a little over a week ago, such a devastating event had taken place. The United States was now trying to hunt down its attackers, and the leads were more promising now than ever. There would certainly be no more Meningitis attacks, and it appeared as though the attack in Disney World, although so horrific, was not nearly the atrocity that it could have been. Now, as he looked around him, he was struck by the serene atmosphere of Bayport, and he had never been so glad to come home.

Walking up to his destination, Joe couldn't help but to smile softly to himself. It was Prom night, and here he was, all donned in a new tuxedo, and getting ready to party the night away. Yet, if anyone had asked him a short time ago what he had envisioned his Prom to be like, THIS never would have been it.

Nervously, he looked down at the corsage in his hands, and thought about his former dilemma about whom he had been planning to ask to go- Iola or Vanessa. Joe shook his head. _What was I thinking? That took a lot of nerve. I should be lucky that either of them would go with ME. _Still, now Prom night was before him, and his choice was made.

Walking slowly to the familiar door, he knocked twice, waiting for his date. He knew that the prom would be awkward for him, as both Vanessa and Iola were going. Still, he had to make an appearance, and he knew that he had made the right choice. He could deal with everything else later. With a silent prayer, Joe just hoped for an evening at the Prom without any drama or fireworks. Laughing to himself, he thought, _I've seen too many fireworks already!_

Slowly the door opened, and Joe smiled. The young woman before him wore her hair up with tendrils curling around her face, framing it beautifully. She wore a black satin, strapless gown with long gloves to match, and around her neck was a simple strand of pearls. Despite the traumatic events of the last few weeks, she looked like she had stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. "Wow. You look… stunning," Joe said to her, sincerely. He had never seen her look more beautiful. He hesitated a moment. "I just wish that…"

"I know," she replied, meeting his eyes. "Me, too."

"Here," Joe replied, surprised that he didn't feel as awkward as he thought he would. He handed her the flowers. "I brought this for you. It's…."

"Thanks," she replied. "Really, that's very sweet." With a smile, she asked, "Ready to go?"

"You bet."

Joe reached for her hand, and she gave it a gentle squeeze.

With that gesture, Joe Hardy and Callie Shaw headed for the Prom**.**

Part 2

When they arrived, Joe turned to Callie before he got out of the car. "Cal? I really am sorry that Frank couldn't make it tonight. I mean, the doctor told him to take it easy, and, although he probably could have tried to come, it…."

"Joe?" Callie interrupted. "It's fine. I mean, I'll miss him, obviously. This was supposed to be our night. BUT, I'd much rather have him healthy than to risk it all for an evening out."

Joe looked closely at Callie. He couldn't swear to it, but he thought that Callie's voice had faltered on the word "healthy." He shook his head for a moment. Callie looked gorgeous, but Joe couldn't help but to notice how thin she'd gotten, which he assumed was from stress. He felt so terrible about what had transpired between them. Callie had been more than gracious in her forgiveness, but she still was quieter than he was used to seeing her. Again, he assumed this was also from what had gone on between them, although Callie denied it.

"Are you okay, Callie? I mean, are you sure you're not still mad?" He looked at her, and tried to make a joke about what was weighing heavily on is mind. "Because, you know, I already have two girls who aren't crazy about me at the moment."

Callie swallowed the lump in her throat, and looked out the window for a moment. She had so much on her mind. The doctor's words kept replaying in her mind, and the thought that she could be sick—really, seriously ill- was more than she could bear. Somehow, she managed to keep all of these issues to herself. She needed time to deal with the possibilities before she could talk about them with others. She still hadn't made an appointment to see anyone- she needed to wait, at least until graduation. In horror, she admitted that she really didn't want to know. Instinctively, she reached to the back of her head. Lightly, she touched it. The bump was still there. She fought back tears.

"Callie?" Joe repeated, concerned.

Callie got a hold of herself and turned to Joe. "W... what? Oh, I'm sorry." She smiled bravely at him. "No, Joe, I'm not mad at you. Now, we better go in and stop the rumors before they begin to start!" She tried to laugh, and was surprised when she couldn't. It sounded flat. "Are you- going to be okay with Van and Iola? Can you deal with all of this tonight?"

Joe bit his lip. THAT was a very good question. "Well, it was good that we all decided to go as friends, so there are no dates around. I… I need to talk to both of them, but… they're both wonderful, you know? They are incredible people, and somehow, no matter what happens, I think it'll be all right. Don't you?" Joe realized he needed reassurance, and felt embarrassed asking Callie.

She didn't disappoint him. "Actually, Joe, I do think it'll work out. No." She paused. " I know it will."

Joe smiled, and went around to the other side of the car, letting Callie out. On impulse, he hugged her tightly. "You're okay, Shaw, you know that?"

"Oh, geez." She replied, looking at the ground. She then looked into his eyes, and smiled, gently. "You know, little Hardy, you ought to be careful. You might have people start to think that we actually get along. Can you imagine?" She had a teasing tone to her voice.

"You're right," he replied, in mock seriousness. "Start moving, ugly."

Callie laughed. "That's more like it, stupid."

Joe began to feel better, as he and Callie entered the building

Part 3

Once inside, Joe and Callie split up. She went to sit at the table where they'd all be eating, and he noticed that, right away, a few seniors came up to her and hugged her in greeting. Joe noticed that a few had puzzled expressions on their faces. Joe felt badly thinking about how many times Callie would have to explain that Frank wasn't there, but he smiled to himself, knowing what was in store.

Immediately, he caught sight of Iola, and he froze. She was talking with Phil Cohen, a friend of theirs, and their heads were close together. He watched, stunned, as Phil gave her a kiss on the cheek. What was going on?!

At that moment, Iola looked up with a smile, which immediately fell when she saw Joe. He watched as she excused herself, and walked slowly up to him. He couldn't help but to notice how pretty she looked. Although she wasn't totally acclimated to school at all at this point, everyone had insisted that she come tonight anyway. She was wearing a baby blue two piece dress. The top came just below the waistline of the skirt, which flared out, and accentuated her petite frame. She wore her hair back in a simple bun, and she just looked.… lovely.

Fighting back his curiosity and fear, he told her so. "Hey," he said, softly, "You look terrific."

Iola smiled up at him, finally. "Thanks, you too."

"Oh," Joe stammered, trying to make a joke, "I always look good."

Iola rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway. "Of course. I had forgotten." Suddenly, she became serious again. "Joe? Can we--go outside and talk for a minute?" Her eyes held sadness to them that Joe immediately recognized. He began to feel the same and fought back the lump in his throat. "Sure. Let's go."

Once outside, Joe began to chitchat, having no idea what to say. "So, how's…"

"Don't Joe." Iola looked up at him, and Joe saw the expression on her face. He felt himself getting upset, but stopped when he looked at Iola. The pain was written on her face, but she was smiling for his benefit, so bravely. He couldn't believe her strength as he listened to the words that he knew were inevitable.

She took his hand. "Joe. Oh, baby, there's so much I could say to you, and you to me. I know that. But I'd like to keep it simple, if that's okay."

Joe instinctively reached out to her, and gently touched her face with his hand. She leaned her face against it, and then reached up and removed it, gently kissing his hand before still holding tightly to it.

She sighed, but continued smiling. "Joe. So much has happened. This is what I want to tell you. The whole time I was away from you, I had to deal with so much. Some days I blamed you for everything."

Joe winced, and Iola saw his expression, but continued. "But I don't any longer, Joe. What happened was an accident, and just as often as I questioned you, I always held out hope that you would save me. And you did, Joe. You've been my hero so many times."

Now Iola's lips quivered a bit, but she remained resolute. "I love you so much. I always will. Even if we grow apart and get old and marry other people," she grinned softly, "you will always be my first love. There is no one more wonderful than you."

Joe couldn't speak.

Iola continued. "But we can't be together now, Joe, and you know it as well as I do. I… I need to concentrate on me right now. I always believed that you have to be whole to love someone else. I'm not whole right now, honey. I need to work on a lot of issues. Plus…" she hesitated, then took a deep breath. "Plus, let's face it. You're in love with someone else."

Joe trembled, and felt tears form in his eyes. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, which Iola, trembling herself, gently wiped away. "I'm not mad," she whispered. "I know you love me, too. It's just in a different way. And you know what else?"

Joe took Iola into his arms and held her tightly. He felt so terrible, but he knew this had been coming. The thought of hurting her again was unfathomable. "Iola..." he whispered.

"I wasn't done," she said, into his shoulder. She pulled back.

"Oh," he choked out.

Her strength amazed him. "I am going to need you to love me, AS A FRIEND, and to help me through this very difficult time. I like Vanessa, Joe. And I can't be with anyone right now."

Suddenly a question hit him. "What about Phil?"

Iola looked perplexed, but then burst out laughing. "Joseph! Phil is my friend. I like him. He's slow and steady—no danger. I like that. But, no, honey- I need myself. I can do without a relationship right now."

Joe met her eyes. He was so overwhelmed by emotions. He tilted her face to his, and tenderly kissed her, one last time. As they parted, he said, totally earnestly to her, "I do love you."

She hugged him tightly, and then pulled back. "And I love you. Now." She inhaled deeply, and put on a brave front. "Go tell that to your girlfriend, and tell her it's not platonic."

Joe felt relief wash over him. He squeezed her hand. "I will. Thank you." With a kiss on her forehead, he bounded indoors, eager to see Vanessa.

Iola, left alone, felt her face crumple, as she dissolved into tears. Sobbing quietly to herself, she realized, as Vanessa once did, that if you really love someone, then you do what is best for him- with you or without you. With trembling fingers, she touched her forehead where Joe had just kissed her, and hoped to keep that feeling of warmth. She asked God for the strength to keep her feelings at bay. She gazed at the starry sky, and knew, despite her pain, that she had done the right thing.

She felt comforted.

Part 4

Callie Shaw, meanwhile, had excused herself from her group of friends and had gone to the lobby to be by herself. Joe had been so nice this evening, but she couldn't get herself into the party mode. When Frank had called to tell her that he couldn't make it, she had been sorely disappointed, but she hoped that she had hidden that well. Then, when Frank had suggested that she go with Joe, she had laughed. Then, she realized that he had been serious. Now, here she was, at her Prom, without her long-time love. Callie desperately fought back tears. She was so scared to think about her health but, try as she might, she couldn't forget it. Although she had rested, she had been unable to gain the weight back, and she continued to be tired and weak. And, once this week, she had gotten another migraine headache.

Callie rested her head in her hands. She simply wanted to go home. Being here, alone, with all her worries, was worse than anything. She glanced momentarily at the clock on the wall. Since the doctor's announcement, _You might have Cancer, _time seemed so precious and fleeting, and she was aware of each second. Slowly, she closed her eyes.

At once, she felt an arm around her, and she jumped. She turned quickly, and her jaw dropped open. There was Frank, looking so handsome all dressed up. He had a large bouquet of roses in his free arm, and he kissed her cheek.

Callie covered her mouth with her hand in shock, and finally managed, "F... Frank?"

Frank just laughed. "I hope so, unless I have a twin somewhere I don't know about! Here- these are for you." With that, he handed her the roses.

Callie felt tears well in her eyes, and Frank was surprised at her reaction. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her guided her to a more secluded area, where they could have some privacy. "Are you okay?" he finally asked her.

"Yes," she whispered, and then met his eyes. "What are you doing here?! The doctor..."

"..Said I had to rest for a week, which I did. I'll have a little limp, but, if you'll take me, I'm yours." He smiled. Callie felt her heart melt as she looked at him.

"I wanted to surprise you," he continued. "This is our time. Did you honestly think I'd send you with my brother?! Although, I have to admit, you did it! Wow." At once he looked into her eyes, and Callie couldn't move. Gently, he removed the roses from her hand, and placed them on the floor. Then, he enveloped Callie in his arms and whispered, tenderly "You look so incredibly beautiful. I hope that you know how much tonight- and how much the last four years- have meant to me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Callie couldn't help it. She felt tears form in her eyes at Frank's last words. "Oh, Frank…" she whispered.

Frank pulled back a moment. "Cal? Is everything okay? That wasn't exactly the reaction I thought I'd get."

Callie met his eyes, and was instantly taken by how handsome he was. She felt her heart pounding, and was overwhelmed. Not thinking, she reacted by instinct. She clung to him tightly at once, and buried her face in his chest. She was relieved when Frank didn't ask her questions, but just held her. She felt his hand gently stoking the back of her neck, and dreaded the thought that he might feel her mass. Still, she needed him at that moment and, although she couldn't tell him why exactly then, she was overcome with love for him.

Finally, she pulled back, but was instantly drawn in again when Frank pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. After what seemed like a long time, she finally looked up at him and caught her breath.

"Frank?" she asked, softly.

"Mmm?" He muttered, still looking into her eyes.

"Can we just- go home? I didn't need the Prom, really. I just needed to be with you. I... I think we should say our goodbye to high school the same way we said hello." She smiled weakly.

Frank laughed. "Well, okay! Popcorn, Blockbuster video, and soda it is, then." He had to smile, thinking about his Friday night routine with Callie that had come to be their favorite day of the week. "I think we're a bit overdressed for it, though, don't you think?"

Callie laughed through her tears. "Not necessarily. I need a little normalcy. Besides, we could rent a big fairytale flick and feel like we're living in it!"

Frank groaned. "I think we've had it with fairytales for a while, baby."

Callie smiled softly. "True." Trying to get a hold of her emotions, she gently touched his cheek. "Frank? No matter what happens to me…"

"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.

She ignored him. "No matter what happens, I love you – so much. Thank you for a wonderful four years."

Frank met her gaze. He tipped an invisible champagne glass. "And here's to four more- at least. We have all the time in the world to be together. I love you, too, Callie. More than you know."

Callie, touched by his words, and overcome with their irony, could only reply, "I hope so, Frank."

With an arm wrapped securely around her waist, Frank led Callie through the lobby and on towards home- the only real security and certainty she had left in the world...

Part 5

Joe ran into the lobby, and through the doors, eager to see Vanessa, at long last. He was saddened by his conversation with Iola, but he knew that she had been right. He WOULD be there for here, too. He had just come to realize that sometimes, when you idealized a situation, the reality never quite lived up to it. He had dreamed about his reunion with Iola for so long, and upon her return, the situation had turned out to be just that-- an unfeasible dream. He knew in his heart that he would remain close to Iola forever, but he also knew that he could no longer deny his feeling for Vanessa.

Finally, he saw her. Standing in the distance, she looked breathtaking to him. She wore a long black form-fitting gown, and her long ash-blonde hair was worn straight and down. He took a moment to take in the sight. Then, slowly, he made his way towards her, arriving a few moments later.

"Van?" He spoke softly to her, and she turned around.

"Oh. Hey." She replied hesitantly, unsure of what was happening. Vanessa couldn't help but to notice how good Joe looked. He rarely dressed up, but when he did, he was a sight to behold.

"Can we… talk? If you have a few minutes, I mean."

"Sure." Vanessa took a deep breath. She wasn't sure she was up for this.

They walked slowly over to a corner of the room, where there were less people. Joe pulled out a seat for Vanessa by the table, and sat down next to her. "Vanessa- you look - wonderful tonight."

Vanessa blushed. "Well, thanks," she responded. Smiling, she added, "I hope you noticed that I went for simplicity this evening. No ball gowns or made up looks. I've had enough of that 'Princess' line to last a lifetime!"

Joe laughed back, relieved. "Well, simplicity never looked so good!"

"Thanks. You look great, too."

Joe met her eyes. "Van- there's a lot wanted to say. I… I acted like a real jerk to you, and there's absolutely no reason that you should want to be with me." Joe paused, taking her hand in his. He hadn't expected this to be so hard. "When I almost lost you, it was- it was one of the most horrible feelings I've ever had in my life. I promise to never let you down again. That is- if you'll take me back. I'm truly sorry."

Vanessa held her emotions in check, and replied evenly, "What about Iola?"

Joe squeezed her hand. "She's a wonderful girl, and I'll always care about her, and love her in some way. But, it's over. We talked. She knows that…" He paused, then continued, "…That I'm in love with you."

Vanessa removed her hand from Joe's, and spoke to him. "Joe, you were a jerk. I mean, dump good old Vanessa when something else comes along, even if the excuse was fairly understandable. I trusted you. I told you didn't have to make a choice, and I even helped Iola. There's nothing else I could have done for you, and you let me down. I thought you were a better person than that. I can't get past that."

"Oh," Joe stammered, shocked at Vanessa's reaction. He tried not to get upset, but he could feel the color rising in his cheeks. She was absolutely correct about everything, and he knew it. He had blown it. He looked at the floor.

"You were thoughtless, careless, and just plain mean."

"Mmm hmm." Joe could not meet her eyes.

"Which is why..." She paused.

After a few moments, Joe finally looked up.

"Which is why you're going to have to try awfully hard to make this up to me!" She smiling, laughing through the tears that were now in her eyes.

Joe couldn't believe it. Instinctively, he smiled back. "You mean..."

"I mean exactly what I say. You better not blow it this time. I only give second chances to pretty special people."

Joe reached over and hugged her tightly. Relief flooded over him. "Thank you, baby. I promise that I'll never be a jerk again. Well, intentionally anyway."

He pulled away, and kissed her cheek. "I love you."

Vanessa laughed again. "Yeah, well, you should! I love you, too."

Joe grinned. "I guess you could say I'm your Prince Charming, eh?"

Groaning, Vanessa replied, "Don't even joke."

"Would you like to dance?" He asked her, as a slow song began to play across the room.

"It'd be my pleasure. Besides, you might not be a prince, but you can still treat me like a queen!" Vanessa replied.

That night, under the stars, many people's lives began to change. A new storybook had opened, and chapters were beginning to be written. Joe and Vanessa danced the night away, relieved to have found each other again at last, and believing strongly in happily ever after. Iola Morton gazed into the sky, and began to see that fairytales did not always come true. Still, she knew that somewhere out there, the lights would guide her home, and make her whole again. And, finally, Frank and Callie, far away from the 'magical' night of their lives, realized that it is not the story of one's life, but the characters in it, that play the most important roles. Frank, relieved to have Callie safe, held her close, and shared tender stories and secrets meant only for her. Callie, nestled in Frank's arms, realized that some secrets couldn't be shared, and could only pray for a happy ending.

They all wondered where the next chapter in their lives would take them….

**The end.**


End file.
